


A Light in the Darkness

by KarasuNei



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst, Because slow af build, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark fluff, Fluff, Have I mentioned slow build?, Human!zenyatta, Hunter!Gabriel, Kumiho!Hana, M/M, Mild Gore, Myth!AU, OW cast as various mythical creatures, Pan!Lucio, ShadowWitch!Sombra, Shaman!Hanzo, Smut, Vampire!Jack, Vampire!McCree, Victorian settings, heavy smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:24:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 63,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7619773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarasuNei/pseuds/KarasuNei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Not all those who wander are lost.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Illusion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LovelyAche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyAche/gifts), [misbehavingvigilante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbehavingvigilante/gifts), [SenkiroWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenkiroWolf/gifts), [Qwerty224](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qwerty224/gifts), [W4nderingStar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/W4nderingStar/gifts).



> This fic is set in a Victorian-esque time, just so you won't be confused.
> 
> This is a gift fic for the wonderful [crowbi](http://crowbi.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, who has been drawing so many beautiful arts inspired by my fic [Eclipse](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7543015/chapters/17151502)! It has been such a joy knowing you dear and your work is absolutely marvelous!!!
> 
> Also, I would like to give a shout out to all you amazing people who have been so very supportive of my work!!! Thank you all so much and I hope you will enjoy this!!!
> 
> EDIT: I'm in the process of reviewing and editing the entirety of the series. Each chapter will be revamped and reposted by myself :)

 

* * *

 

               The hallowed, dark hall of the church made the distance sounds of shouts and alarms seemed like a hazy dream. Splotched moonlight strewed through stained glass, and flickering candle fire couldn’t illuminate the vast space enough, leaving the shadows to dance at the edge of one’s imagination.

 

                Subconsciously, Gabriel Reyes pulled his trench coat tighter to himself.

 

                Hasty steps were made down the silent isle, echoing crisply against polished marble. Gabriel was not alone and, even in the house of God, he knew he was _not_ safe. The one he was supposed to meet, the same one that left the carnage just a mile away from this supposedly peaceful, sacred ground, was here. And _he_ was not difficult to spot.

 

                Sitting astride the altar insolently, the creature’s long, snow white coat seemed to almost glow as it spilled messily and elegantly unto the ground, like liquid silver almost, and marked with intricate cobalt designs that weaved into one another endlessly. Every inch of the suit he wore, a startling black and blue, was impeccable down to the shinning gold buttons and the tasteful sky blue cravat. Black leather boots hugged his calves snugly, artfully showing off both curves and muscles. The creature’s hair was styled in a way that is both inviting and formal, golden like soft autumn glows and eyes the reminiscence of clear sky after the rain.

 

                He was beautiful, mesmerising, and Gabriel knew better than to be _anywhere_ near that creature.

 

                “John “Jack” Morrison.” His tone was clipped, formal as he tipped his head in the barest nod of acknowledgement. With a fluid roll of his neck, Morrison gave him a glance that was almost shy and innocent, but the mildly sultry display of throat behind stiff collar broke the illusion. Gabriel’s hand twitched on his briefcase and he adamantly refused to avert his gaze from brilliant, half-lidded blue eyes, “I am sent here to meet you by Overwatch. I am-…”

 

                “Gabriel Reyes.” Morrison drawled, full lips twitching upwards and revealing a sharp-tipped fang, “So I have heard.”

 

                “Good, I don’t need to explain the terms and conditions to you then.” Gabriel knew he came off rude and bristled. If everything he heard is true, then he, the Hunter, was being reckless. But this creature just rubbed him the wrong way, Morrison’s sheer presence made his skin crawl, “I will be your new handler from now on.”

 

                The statement brought out a low chortle from the creature. Morrison threw back his head, mouth opened with a rolling exhale. He looked _blissed out_ , and Gabriel’s entire back had this uncomfortable burning sensation, when adrenaline ran high and instinct screamed to kick in. With a hum that slurred, as if he was tipsy, Morrison regarded the dark man with a wide smile, showing off his blinding white fangs.

 

                “What makes you think you are capable of what the others weren’t?”

 

                A chill went down Gabriel’s spine. He scrambled to regain his poker face, but the brief shift of expression was enough to widen Morrison’s grin. Gabriel snarled.

 

                “Oh, trust me, _pretty boy_. You haven’t dealt with _me_ yet.”

 

                It happened before he could react. Those pale, beautiful eyes were suddenly inches away from his, cold breaths ghosting over his lips teasingly. Gabriel flinched when a finger hooked onto his blood red tie, pulling him closer suggestively. The creature’s smile was carved marble, perfect and marvellous, yet sinful and untouched at the same time.

 

                “You think I’m pretty?” Morrison crooned and, without giving Gabriel time to respond, yanked the man forward into a kiss. It was soft, _almost_ innocent, just like how Morrison displayed himself, but the light skim of teeth on Gabriel’s lips suggests anything but. For the first few seconds, Gabriel’s entire system froze. But, as he felt the sharps edges of fangs and the tiniest flicker of hot, wet tongue, he pushed the creature away. His hands never made contact, because Morrison was already gliding away, black-blue gloved finger tapped on his own blushing lips that had stretched into a wicked grin once more.

 

                “See you around, _Gabe_.”

 

                And melded into the darkness seamlessly, leaving only an odd scent of sunshine and honey in the air. Gabriel cursed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

 

                “ _Fuckin’ vampires_.”

 

                Cleaning up the mess hadn’t been easy. When Gabriel managed to drag himself back to headquarter, it was almost dawn. By then, he was pretty sure he would never be able to scruff the stench of undead flesh off his attire.

 

                Obviously, his boss didn’t have any sympathy. It was almost a grand gesture when Ana Amari looked up from her beloved scope, took one look at Gabriel and _leered_ , “How was the job, Reyes?”

 

                His glare at the woman was sour, and she laughed in sharp, whizzing exhales. A string of profanities escaped him as Gabriel tossed his briefcase on the floor, stripped off his trench coat, suit jacket and loosened his tie in a flurry of frustration. Slumping down into his seat at the long table, despite knowing it was unbecoming, the Hunter sulked. Ana’s amusement was grating on his nerves. If only the woman wasn’t paying for his shit, then he would have put a round of bullets in her head a long time ago…

 

                “Oh, get over it.” She flicked an empty shell at him, hitting him square in the chest. Gabriel growled, but she ignored him as per usual, “It wasn’t as bad as you make it sound.”

 

                “You gave me babysitting duty.” Gabriel hissed out of spite, uncaring how untrue his words were, unbuttoning his waistcoat to sit better, and glared at the woman with shirtsleeves up to her elbows, “We should have put a bullet in that brat’s brain ages ago.”

 

                “You do realise that this _brat_ is older than _all_ of us combined?” Ana’s perfectly tweezed eyebrow rose, unimpressed, and she promptly went back to tinkering with her rifle, “I already explained in the briefing. Stop being a child, Mister Reyes.”

 

                Propping his feet on the table with a grunt, Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

                Overwatch, their organization, was created to search for and destroy the undead and other supernatural forces of evil that threatened the world. Their purpose was to end all activity of non-human creatures that actively sought to do harm. They consisted of humans and certain empowered creatures alike, had their own body of soldiers responsible for conducting offensive operations against enemies all around the world and protecting the innocents. They mostly functioned in the shadows, because their methods were _sometimes_ considered unconventional. Especially given how widespread their missions could be, some countries and cultures would absolutely not tolerate their utilisations if Overwatch operated publicly.

 

                One of such… _unconventional methods_ would be the associations with vampires and humanoid creatures who were willing to cooperate with them. Overwatch’s number, though individually powerful, was not many. They needed all the help they could get, anywhere they could get it. It was a necessity, given the _collateral damage_ this job brought. Even going so far as to include some of those unearthly creatures into their ranks.

 

                But Jack Morrison was a curious case.

 

                Technically, the vampire worked for Overwatch. Hell, he was responsible for so many successful missions, his name might as well be engraved on a monument at Overwatch’s main headquarter. The files on Morrison were numerous, but only available to certain ranking Officers, dating back to the dawning days of the organization, but nothing ever suggested that he was ever an official Overwatch member.

 

                Gabriel would like to think Morrison as a dog on a loose leash. The vampire was undoubtedly powerful and extremely dangerous. He could obliterate an entire army of undead in a blink, just as he had demonstrated earlier, among other incredible deeds. Including obliterating an _actual town of living people_. There was a switch in Morrison’s impulse control, which was why it was required for him to have a skilled handler, a Hunter that would be capable of taking him down should the need arises. Through the information that Gabriel was supplied with, he learnt that Morrison had only lost his grip once, which resulted in a devastating destruction of Overwatch’s former headquarter in Switzerland. The details of how Morrison escaped his execution were dodgy, as the documents simply didn’t record it. But Gabriel was well-informed about how Morrison had this tendency of _biting his own_ handlers.

 

                It made him scoff.

 

                Gabriel was ruthless enough to put down anything and everything that blocked his path. He had all the means to stop creatures like Morrison from roaming the earth. He was skilled, he had a drive. He was suitable, the one most suitable for this job, and Ana has trusted him with it.

 

                Didn’t mean he had to like it, though.

 

                “Do lighten up, Mister Reyes.” Ana blew away a stray strand of her hair, looking unconcerned, “You said you could handle him, and I have the uttermost confidence in your capability. You and he will get along quite… _handsomely_.”

 

                Blearily, he gave her another glare, “So I am some sort of eye candy for you now? What kind of example would that give Fareeha?”

 

                She was unfazed by his jab, “Judging by your prickly attitude, as in pricklier than usual, I’d say that our Jack has riled you up pretty well.”

 

                Gabriel’s withering glare intensified, and Ana rolled her eyes, as if she was dealing with an impudent child.

 

                “I know your opinion about him, Gabriel.” The woman started again, but there is more warmth to her tone this time, trying a different approach. She packed away her rifle in a weather-polished case, and pushed it aside carefully. Long, gun-calloused fingers threaded together as she regarded the man with all her attention now, “I know you have all the reasons to shoot him, just as with all the other vampires, and I appreciate that you haven’t. I appreciate that you are doing this as a friend. Which is why I trust your judgement, if there is a time that has to pass.”

 

                Not knowing how to answer to that, as the words managed to both piss him off more and reassured him. Friends or no, Ana knew the art of persuasion just as sharp as her aim on the battlefield. Gabriel wouldn’t be able to respond that without compromising himself further, not when he was so tired. And especially not when he had agreed because of her in the first place. And that, of course, didn’t pass Amari’s keen eyes.

 

                “Get some rest. It has been a long day for you.”

 

                “No shit, boss.” His tone was brisk and the stern line of his shoulders only tensed more as he marched away without another word.

 

                He really fucking hated this job sometimes.

 

                Not a man to take comfort in materialism, Gabriel’s quarter was small and undecorated, surprising for someone of his status as Overwatch’s top ranking Officer. Tiny cot to sleep, simple cupboards to store bare necessities, and a couple of outfits for different occasions. The black suit he had on was probably the most expensive piece of belonging he had, aside from the weapons. Lena Oxton, his Lieutenant, had insisted on him getting some formal wears after seeing the state of his previous suit, a mangled almost-seven-year-old excuse pieces of clothing that no longer fit his board shoulders anymore. The only thing Gabriel kept in manageable condition was his leather trench coat, for it was most useful for concealing his extensive arsenal whilst.

 

                With a sigh, he slipped off his holster and ammo belt, heading to the joined bathroom for a much needed wash. Water dripped down his body haphazardly as Gabriel splashed the remaining specs of gore off his skin. Dredging himself through the gushing flesh and destroyed corpses had been gruesome work.

 

                When he stared into his own reflection, Gabriel saw tired eyes and more lines than he would have liked. Frost had not tainted his black curls, yet he looks far older than his true age might suggest. Muscled back weighted down by invisible burdens and brown eyes framed by a permanent frown. Life had certainly not been kind to him, but it wasn’t something that he should keep complaining about.

 

Rolling his shoulders, Gabriel groaned in satisfaction when cramped joints pop and made his way to bed.

 

                It was only the beginning, and, Gabriel could already feel a sense of foreboding. He could almost smell it in the air, in the curious scent of honey and sunshine, mixed with the rot of undead and the iron tinge of blood. In that kiss that somehow still lingered upon his lips.

 

                Gabriel’s mouth curled up in disgust. Jack Morrison would be in for a wild ride if this would go anything as his previous handlers had been.

 

                The second time they met was a situation that hits a little too close to home.

 

                There were a couple of vampires wrecking havocs. The usual murdering, blood-sucking shit. Beasts as they were, they spared none, women, children, elderly…The crime scenes were sickening, with gutted corpses arranged into ungodly positions in their own homes. Floor and walls and furniture painted in blood.

 

                Gabriel had preferred to solve this case alone, but Ana adamantly wanted proof that he and _the other creature_ could work together. Thus, the Hunter was then facing Morrison’s irritatingly grinning face.

 

                “D’aw, cheer up, _Gabe-love_.” The blond vampire grinned tauntingly, fangs glistening in the darkness, “One can’t be so grouchy in such a wondrous reunion. The moon is beautiful tonight.”

 

                “You should shut up before I shot your face in.” Gabriel snarled. Morrison didn’t seem fazed, in fact, Gabriel’s irritation only evoked a breathless, sultry laughter.

 

                “Such a spoil-sport, you are.” He tsk-ed, black boots barely touch the ground as he trailed alongside Gabriel down the empty field, “Not much of a team player either, it seems.”

 

                “You still haven’t shut up. And speak for yourself, I was the one to take down that piece of shit back there. You didn’t do shit. And would you _stop_ calling me _Gabe_?!”

 

                The undead with a gaping hole in his face back at the abandoned house was testament to his words. While Gabriel’s bullets were punching into the creature’s body, Morrison had been utterly unhelpful, leaning against the doorframe like he was posing for some unknown eyes. And now, as they, or more accurately, _Gabriel_ was tracking the other escaped fiend, Morrison just had to babble his mouth away.

 

                “Do lighten up.” Morrison graced him with another drawn out, melodic chuckle, and attempted to throw an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders (which was shrugged off like hot coal), “I was merely testing your abilities, _Gabe_. Isn’t this supposed to be a test on its own?”

 

                “To see if we could work _together_.” Gabriel shoved the vampire away, once again failing to touch him at all. As a result, Gabriel’s fingers twitched, itching to put a bullet in the infuriating _thing’s_ face, “It nullifies the contract if I’m doing all the work now, doesn’t it, _Morrison_?”

 

                He spat the name out like a curse, prompting the vampire to cover his dead heart in a feigned hurtful display, “So cold! What happened to you that made you so grumpy, lovely Gabe? And aren’t teammates supposed to be friendly, hm? You should call me by my name.”

 

                “I’m not calling you anything!” Gabriel snapped, the creature’s honeyed voice only served to irritate him further, “Would you get your rotten ass up and do something?!”

 

                Bloody vampires, he should have known…

 

                A white mist wrapped around him, settling the chills deep within his bones and, in just a heartbeat, Morrison was there, long legs curling around his waist and arms encircling his neck. The vampire’s presence was solid and all hard defines of muscles, yet he was lighter than a shadow. Gabriel froze mid-step, standing there in the middle of rustling grass and pale moonlight. Morrison’s eyes were darker than the deepest parts of the ocean as he stared into Gabriel’s soul, half-lidded and seductive.

 

                “For you, I will get _so many other parts of me up_.” He purred, brushing a chaste kiss on Gabriel’s lips before melting into a white haze once more, spreading and disappearing into the night, leaving the Hunter behind petrified.

 

                An inhuman screech sounds off in the distance, before everything sunk into deadly silence once more. Without the need to check, Gabriel knew Morrison had finished the job. Letting out frustrated grunt, he threw down his shotgun in a fit of rage. Rustling grass waved back innocently, and Gabriel collected himself, both physically and mentally, before moving off towards direction Morrison had disappeared to.

 

                A r _eward_ was due, no matter how undeserving Gabriel thought Morrison was.

                The Hunter was less than the slightest definition of enthusiastic when he had to give blood to Morrison and he did so in an unorthodox manner. Morrison’s false façade fell sullenly at the realisation. It gave Gabriel a fierce sense of satisfaction as he tossed the creature a vial of his blood.

 

                “Ah, so anti-climactic.” The vampire jutted out his lower lip, plump and moist in his last attempt to tempt Gabriel, and inspected the glass, nose wrinkling in disgust, “How would I know if you didn’t put silver in there?”

 

                “You don’t.” Gabriel smirked, though he immediately scowled when Morrison tipped his head back, glancing at Gabriel under half-lidded lashed, and downed the blood in one go. Fangs elongated and pupils dilated, the vampire took in a long, hissing breath of satisfaction, pink tongue darting out on already wet lips.

 

                The show did little to hide the fact that Morrison was starving, Gabriel noted with a slightly uncomfortable notch.

 

                “So very tasty.” The vampire drawled, inching a little towards Gabriel, whose hand flew to the gun on his side. Morrison giggled drunkenly, palms waving in an inviting gesture and head tipping backwards like he was but an innocent little doe, and smiled sweetly at the Hunter, “How do I long to taste that flow beneath your skin, to sink my teeth into your delectable flesh. To feel you up with my hands. To drown myself completely in your scent…Such an interesting creature you are, _Gabriel_. Makes one wonder how long you can keep up…”

 

                Eyes narrowing, Gabriel snatched an arm that was far too close to his face. A lesser man, a human, would have flinched at the bruising grip, but Morrison didn’t, his smile only widened, showing off fangs that were still stained with blood.

 

                “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Morrison.”

 

                Oh yes, the whole thing about being a handler? He had to give his blood to the vampire.

 

                Apparently, the switch in Morrison was dictated by whose blood he was given. In simpler words, they got Morrison addicted to the taste of his specific handler. He would only drink from that one handler, conditioned to do so. Only the handler could stop the vampire from going losing control and giving into his base instinct of endless killing to quench his thirst. By throwing himself in front of Morrison.

 

                In that scenario, the handler’s blood would overwhelm the vampire’s system and repressed his urges down. They did have a choice however, and that was to just off the vampire. Now, Gabriel did not know if the former handlers were capable of taking down the vampire, or simply was unable to sacrifice such an asset to the organization. Morrison was one of a kind, an experiment of some sort, created to be wielded like a weapon. He wasn’t something Overwatch was willing to lose, despite their claim about the handling agent was free to act on their own should the vampire demonstrated any threatening behaviour.

 

                This creature before him is deceptively beautiful. Charming, suggestive and ethereal like the moonlight. But Gabriel knows better. He knows Morrison is a thousand times more dangerous than any of the monsters that lurks around, more than those that he has encountered and slain. Gabriel had no qualms about killing him.

 

                “Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…There is something about you…” Morrison purred, sated and looking every bit like he had just been fucked boneless, drawing Gabriel’s attention once more, “You are _different_ from the others, aren’t you? You taste… _different_ …”

 

                “Pathetic creature, aren’t you?” Gabriel sneered, pushing Morrison away with the same arm he was still holding, disgust written all over his expression.

 

                However, about everything that is surrounding this elusive vampire, there was one detail that bothered Gabriel. Between the time the previous handler…passed and for another to be found, Morrison was kept in this church, where they first met. And then some more until the found handler accepted giving their blood to him. Morrison was either starved, or fed with mixed blood to keep him alive. If the former assumption was correct, then Morrison would be one hell of a powerful vampire to go on that long without feeding. The average vampire could not stand without blood under two to three days. In order to find a suitable candidate, it would take _weeks_ , not to mention the extra length added here and there.

 

                Gabriel was not informed of this at all, and he wasn’t sure Ana herself knew. The section in charge of this project was personally oversaw by a woman named Satya Vaswani, the head of the organization. Ana Amari might be their Strike-Commander, but Vaswani was the true Leader. Gabriel trusted Ana to have given him everything she knew, but he had no doubt that there were hidden information. This was not the first time it happened, and definitely would not be the last.

 

                Honestly, if it wasn’t for Ana, Gabriel wouldn’t have stuck his neck out like this. She had been in hot water with the higher-ups recently. There were certain disagreements going around that didn’t quite help Ana’s favour. And since she had a child, it made the situation worse for her. He went along the scheme as quietly as he could as oppose to his own reservation.

 

                Apparently, having a split moment to think was too much with this creature around. While Gabriel was distracted, Morrison had sidled up to him, nose pressing against his neck. His breaths were heavy and cold to Gabriel’s skin. Feeling his hackles rising, the Hunter grabbed a handful of the vampire’s hair and yanked him back forcefully. The air was overwhelming with sunshine and honey, with just a hint of soft, earthly smell. Morrison’s pupils were blown wide, and he wove his hands into the front of Gabriel’s shirt.

 

                “Why do you smell _so good_?” The vampire’s nostrils flared, his lips pulling back in a desperate inhale. He was completely _deranged_ , beautiful, open and thirsty. A lesser man would have fallen for such an open display of lust, but Gabriel simply narrowed his eyes and shoved Morrison away.

 

                “Get a grip.” Starved, it was. Possibly given mixed blood during times when he was needed somewhere, just like the night they first met. From experiences, Gabriel knew what that stuff did to vampires. It was less like food and more along the line of tainted water, old and almost putrid. Worse, for the more powerful ones.

 

                At the shove, Morrison suddenly reeled backwards, his eyes widened even though his breathing was still heavy. His reaction was something Gabriel didn’t expect to see. No, it wasn’t at all like anything Gabriel had seen before. The startled moment passed, and the vampire’s white-blue clad figure melted into the darkness without a sound, leaving the Hunter alone once more.

 

                As he turned around and escaped the quiet, hallowed hall, Morrison’s shocked and confused blue eyes still hung at the back of Gabriel’s mind, along with the questions that surrounded his superiors’ motives. It didn't exactly put him in a great position.

 

                Gabriel’s entire family was murdered by a hungry nest of new-born vampires. Feral creatures, they didn’t leave any recognisable scrape in their wake. Up to this day, Gabriel wasn’t sure whether he was lucky or not to have been out of town that fateful night. He remembered coming back with the neighbourhood being awfully quiet, doors unhinged and odd-uniformed strangers standing about. They had tried to stop Gabriel from barging into his home, but in his terror and outrage, he pushed through them all as if they were made of paper, and was hit by the sight of his blood-soaked home. He was in shock, but devastation didn’t hit him until he realised he couldn’t even identify his own family’s bodies.

 

                The strangers were from Overwatch, and Gabriel asked them to take him along.

 

                From the beginning, his drive had been vengeance. But as time progressed, Gabriel realised that he was doing this, still keeps doing this, because he didn’t want any other sixteen-year-old to go through what he did. It was not as noble as his colleague, Reinhardt, had noted. Gabriel didn’t think he had that great of a cause. He just wanted something done and he did it. It was nice to not be fuelled with blind vengeance and burning hatred anymore. He still hated vampires, and those other unearthly creatures like when he was young. But urge to kill without reason was no longer there.

 

                Otherwise, he would have stuck a bullet in Morrison’s forehead before even accepting the role given to him.

 

                They worked better together now. They worked _well_ together, surprisingly. Gabriel was still grouchy, but his trigger finger was less sensitive around the vampire and the vampire had quieted down plenty with his taunting. They were both on par in terms of fighting skill, minus the supernatural strength and abilities on Gabriel’s part, but he had proven to be cunning and resourceful whereas the vampire was rather flippant and preferred overpowering through their enemies. Both were formidable combatants and both kept an eye out for each other’s back on multiple occasions. With this new… _partner_ of his, Gabriel was understandably sent out for more dangerous missions. Being the handler, he was expected to ease off the frontline, but Gabriel had never been one to sit back and enjoy the scenery. He fought alongside Morrison often, which the vampire often commented on to be “refreshing”.

 

                That was to say, Morrison hadn’t stopped with his flirting. And he kissed Gabriel _a lot_. He kissed Gabriel every time before they went into battle, _for good luck_ , after battle, _for celebration_ , a stolen kiss on the temple when they staked out, a kiss on Gabriel’s gloved knuckles when blood was given, a playful kiss on the shoulder after a kill, a peck on the forehead when he was in a teasing mood, a kiss on the nose when he was amused.

 

                And Gabriel never returned any of them.

 

                The Hunter was adamant that the lusting hadn’t stopped, that this was a normal course of action for the vampire every time a new handler came around. The longer Gabriel spent time around Morrison, the more he was convinced the previous handlers were just too charmed by the vampire to shoot him dead in the end. And fuck it if Gabriel was going to be another name in Morrison’s list, too stupid and playing right into the vampire’s game.

 

                Yet, even Gabriel couldn’t deny Morrison was the best partner he had had in a long while, even better than Lena herself at times.

 

                Still didn’t change the fact that the vampire was annoying as hell. The vampire had a tendency to avert Gabriel’s attention to the most idiotic, questionable excuses he could come up with. Be it during downtime or when they were trying to hunt down a pack of rabid werewolves.

 

                “Hey Gabe! I got a new coat!”

 

                “Hey Gabe! Look at these gloves I found!”

 

                “Ah! I think my rifle is broken. Can you please help me?”

 

                “…You didn’t load it.” Gabriel pointed out flatly, not sparing Morrison one glance, his scope stationed on an escaping werewolf. The shot rang out clean, sending the beast tumbling to the ground with a silver bullet. Meticulously, the Hunter packed away his rifle, ignoring Morrison’s sullen look. “What the hell are you still doing here? Go get the last one!”

 

                Pout turned to glare, and Morrison didn’t even aim when he lifted his own massive weapon with one hand, shooting down his target. Gabriel, too used to this routine, slung on his case and walked away.

 

                There were not a lot of things that Morrison did that didn’t irk Gabriel. But one of which would be when Morrison managed to recover some intelligence in that dead head of his, and conversed with the Hunter like a normal human being. Almost. Nothing about his past, however, Morrison seemed to avoid that like a plague, but Gabriel wasn’t much better. Everyone had some kind of darkness that needed to be hidden away.

 

                Unexpectedly, Morrison enjoyed talking about food, and was pleasantly surprised when Gabriel said he could cook. Being a vampire, regular food didn’t have a taste to him anymore, but Morrison was always excited listening to all types of dishes being described. Now, with his job, Gabriel hadn’t the time to prepare anything for himself. While he would have preferred something more tasteful and creative served in Overwatch’s kitchens, the food was there and convenient. He cooked for himself whenever he was on long missions, not trusting anyone enough to eat in pubs and inns along the way.

 

                Now that Morrison was often around, Gabriel found himself having an audience. It was relaxing, in a way, describing how he made this dish or that, what kind of ingredient and or spice to use, where to find the herbs and other mundane titbits, instead of thinking of what was about to come.

 

                It reminded Gabriel of his family sometimes, his mother and sister in particular, when they were alive. To clutter around their small kitchen, listening to his mother’s explanations. His sister was awful with all this, while he exceled. He remembered fondly how his mother used to chide his sister, how his father had laughed every time, and Gabriel’s own teasing. They were never well-off, but they were happy, and it was enough. Before, when he was younger and angrier, Gabriel tried to bury the memories as deep as he could, for they often dragged up too much pain. But now, with Morrison listening to the words that had once flown from his mother’s mouth, Gabriel found the melancholy not entirely unwelcomed.

 

                The world was already surrounded in too much darkness, it was healthy to have a light moment every once in a while.

 

                It was safe to say that Morrison hadn’t turned out to be what Gabriel had expected and, for once, the latter was glad. Sometimes, when the both of them were quiet for once, _simply enjoying each other’s company_ , he found Morrison staring. But those gazes weren’t the lust-filled, inviting and seductive ones Gabriel was used to. They were more…faraway, dreamy almost, and with just a hint of sadness that the Hunter didn’t quite understand. He brushed that aside. Vampires did not have feelings, none other than the Deadly Sins. They were empty vessels, driven only for sex and blood.

 

                And yet, the more time he spent with Morrison, the more shaken his foundation of belief became.

 

                He found that some of the reports were false. That Morrison was incapable feeling remorse and valorous. Gabriel had seen the idiot throwing himself in front of a charging chimera to save a terrified child. He had seen Morrison painstakingly lured a wraith away from a populated area so there wouldn’t be more collateral damage. He had seen the vampire talked to the kids they met on the way, his sunny attitude and smiles drew them to him like bees to nectar. Gabriel had seen Morrison, _Jack_ , suddenly crouched down on the street, just to pet a cat walking by, grinning to himself like a moron when the beast purred at him.

 

                No…Morrison was not the same monsters Gabriel was trained to kill and conditioned to despise.

 

                Which was why he has been digging around more for information lately. Ana even promised to help, especially when he shared his concerns about the vampire’s origin and how he was being kept away. Still, Gabriel told her to stay put as his suspicions grew. The last thing they wanted was to have someone coming for Fareeha because of this. Farfetched, perhaps, but one could never know…If Overwatch had something to hide, even someone like Lena couldn’t say it wasn’t shady and potentially dangerous.

 

Gabriel had always prided himself on his resourcefulness. While he could have just asked Morrison upfront, Gabriel was more interested in what else Overwatch has been doing behind everyone’s back, instead of just Morrison’s past. For a whole year, alternating between taking missions and digging about, Gabriel never once gave up even if the clues were vague and hidden. If anything, it made him grow even more suspicious, and doubled his efforts in everything.

 

                 That was how he came across Project: _Soldier:76_.

 

 

                “Ah, Mister Reyes. I see you have come to your senses.”

 

                Consciousness came to him like a sledgehammer. Gabriel grunted through his broken jaws and immediately regretted it when he opened his eyes. The world spun and the ringing in his ears wouldn’t stop. Blood caked on the left side of his face, weighting down his swollen eye. He wasn’t sure if there was any spot left on his body that wasn’t bruised or bleeding. And the cherry on top of this whole fucking mess: Gabriel’s laboured, painful breaths indicated some of his ribs were broken.

 

                He spat out a mouthful of blood at the direction of the voice.

 

                “Still feisty, I see.”

 

                There wasn’t enough strength left in him to cry out when the whip met his already torn flesh.

               

                He had been careless. The chancing upon the files had taken all his attention, and it was exactly what they wanted. What was written horrified him, and Gabriel was making his way towards Morrison’s church when he was ambushed. They dragged Gabriel here and quite frankly had beaten the hell out of him. Gabriel had no fucking idea how long he has been gone for. Could have been a few hours. Days perhaps. Pain was a terrible way of tracking time.

 

                “…Thing with cliché villains…is…” He got a punch for his effort, and Gabriel wheezed out something between a laugh and a groan, “…Ya blather on and…on. Easier…to just kill me…y’know?”

 

                The response was infuriatingly calm, condescending and airy, “It is quite unfortunate that we do not see eye to eye. Your imagination, or lack thereof, is…unsettling.”

 

                Gabriel barked out another attempted laughter, disgusted, “Imagination? Unsettling? Satya…You and your…predecesors’ been feedin’…your own people…to a…monster. And im-…imprisoned said monster for…hundreds of years. Now…you’re goin’ to implement…these… _researches_ on unwillin’…subjects. That ain’t…imagination. That’s the work…o’ a _demon_.”

 

                Two more cracks of leather lashed against his bleeding hide.

 

The clicking of Satya Vaswani’s heels on impeccable marble floor echoed in the silence that followed, her elegant turquoise saree fluttered with every movement, golden trinkets adorning her glimmered in the firelight. She was a beautiful creature, tall, imposing, and sleek like a prowling panther.

 

                Gabriel had never liked Satya and her followers. Now he had even less reasons to.

 

                “Mister Reyes, do you know why we keep you alive, despite your unsightly state?” Her voice rolled in waves, fluid just like her steps, “You are going to be a fine specimen to test this new serum we have developed.”

 

                Ah, _shit_.

 

                Jack Morrison did not start out as an experiment. He was an _accident_. He was the _Founder of Overwatch_. Turned by a spiteful vampire, he has since served Overwatch as its secret weapon. For some reasons, he allowed, or was forced to have (Gabriel is willing to bet on the latter) experiments done on him, dating back to a few hundred years. They made him more powerful but dependant to the assigned handler, at least in terms of feeding habits. None of the handlers were ever supposed to live for long, either die by Morrison’s hands or by freak accidents that came without explanation (judging by the line of work, causes of death could be wild as harpies and no-one would bat an eyelash.) The longer they remained entranced by Morrison, the more likely they could become his thrall. They might fulfil commands to either break Morrison out of his invisible leash or expose Overwatch’s terrible secrets.

 

                Like what Gabriel was about to do before being captured.

 

                A guttural sound escaped him when Vaswani’s lackey nailed him with another punch. She was…different from those before her. Instead of simply experimenting on Morrison, Vaswani was also finding other subjects to test whatever fruitful results upon. Her goal was to create an army, akin to what Morrison was, but more obedient, and completely wipe out the entire population of supernatural beings. Morrison would be their Commander, in name, but only a puppet in Overwatch’s hands, a _failsafe switch_.

 

                Vaswani dabbled in what was called the Constructs of Light, a fancy name to heathen magic. Somehow, someway, she discovered how to tie all the created experiments’ life forces to Morrison. Should they disobey, Morrison would be killed, ending the _shamblers_ ’ pitiful existences. The crisp, typed lines settled a condensed terror deep within Gabriel’s bones and, for the first time in his life, beyond his most ridiculous imaginations, he feared for a vampire.

 

                For an organization created to combat evil forces, these people could be rather devilish.

 

                “What a shame. We did not want to waste such a useful agent. You and Morrison have been the most successful pairing we have come across. Your synchronisation is almost perfect and that is without you being charmed by the creature. So much potential.” The clicking heels were as monotonous as her voice, and Gabriel growled at the sharp noise of glass clinking together, “But we do suppose you shall be come just as great as an experiment, given your bond with the monster.”

 

                “Look… _who’s_ talkin’…” Perhaps he should learn how to keep his mouth shut, but with his own demise, or a much worse fate as it seemed, looming right above his head, Gabriel figured he should use his mouth as much as he could when there was still a chance. And that needle definitely didn’t look sanitised, but the Hunter supposed he wouldn’t feel an infection after he was turned.

 

                Well, it had definitely been a wild ride.

 

                Raising his head as defiantly as he could despite being restrained with iron cuffs, Gabriel pulled his lips back and gave Satya a bloodied, mocking grin. There was a shift in her expression, the slightest pinch of her immaculate dark brows. Briefly, Gabriel thought they would have the mercy to knock him out-cold before sticking that dreadful needle into him. However, he certainly didn’t expect the door to _implode_.

 

                Jack Morrison was surrounded by a seething mass of white mist, and Gabriel had _never_ seen something more beautiful in his life. The vampire had foregone his usual stylish coat, his white blazer billowed around him even though there is no wind, hair wild and eyes glowering like blue hell fire. The men in the dungeon shouted, spilling a hail of bullets at Morrison, who _didn’t give a fuck_ as they ruined his usually pristine attire. The white smoke stretched and shaped itself into a swirling mass of hands, hissing and screeching in manners that would make the bravest man in the world piss himself.

 

                It was over before it even started. The mist ripped the goons to shreds, splattering every inch of the chamber with dark, fresh blood and mangled chunks of flesh. Satya only managed to surround herself with a barrier of glimmering silver light before she was _smacked_ _away_ from Gabriel. Despite his split lips and possibly missing teeth, Gabriel whistled.

 

                “As…Oxton would say… _the cavalry is here_.”

 

                With hasty strides, Morrison carried himself towards Gabriel, the fury in his eyes was now mixed with fear, relief and worry. And yet, he halted himself mere feet away, nostrils flaring and pupils blown. Gabriel narrows his eyes.

 

                “You have been gone for two weeks.”

 

                He really wished that fucking woman would _shut up_.

 

                Vaswani picked herself up gracefully, regaining every bit of her regality despite her saree was stained with blood. The white barrier around her was more brilliant, swirling with incredibly powerful magic. Impenetrable, fortified. And yet, her façade cracked at the seams.

 

                _Hatred_.

 

                 “He is conditioned to crave for your blood, Mister Reyes.” Her accent was sharp like knife edge, golden eyes piercing as she performed a series of motions almost resembled a dance, weaving more and more light energy to the cocoon around herself, “Why else did we bloody you up so much?”

 

                Shit. _Shit._

 

                A swell of blue light overshadowed the torches around them, and there was the slightest quirk of her lips when she saluted Gabriel, “I would love to stay and witness the moment you are drained dry by this very creature you try to protect, but I will get by with the knowledge of you receiving the just punishments for your betrayal. Farewell.”

 

                She disappeared, and Gabriel knew better than to curse aloud. Morrison was still petrified, eyes wide in a maelstrom of emotions, and Gabriel didn’t want to snap his fragile control. But, at the same time, Gabriel knew something must be done.

 

                “Hey.”

 

                There was a jolt of muscles that worried Gabriel for a moment. Agony twisted Morrison’s beautiful features, and he looked like he was going to cry, “I-I shouldn’t be here…”

 

                “The fuck you’re…talkin’ ‘bout?” Adrenaline filled Gabriel’s entire being, temporally overrode his pain, “Ya…just saved my ass…from being pumped with…whatever the…hell they got. Now…get over…here and fuckin’ finish…the job.”

 

                For a split moment, Morrison was about to laugh, but his plump lips were pallid and his hands were shaking, “I _can’t_ , Gabe! I…I don’t want to hurt you!”

 

                “Well then…leave and save y’self then. This place...is gonna get swarmed in minutes. Don’t know…what mojo they did to keep ya down, but you ain’t…wanna be their…pet an’more…do you?”

 

                If it was possible, Morrison’s expression became even more pained, “…Gabe…I chose to stay. There is no magic involved. Or anything else at that matter. Well, they think there is…But it can’t hold me.”

 

                Well, _whoopy-fucking-doo_ , then, “The fuck is wrong with you???”

 

                “Gabe, I did…a lot of bad things. After I was turned into _this_ , I did a lot of bad things. I was only spared because of someone...someone vouched for me. Protected me. I am here to atone for my sins and misdeeds.”

 

                Gabriel’s swollen eyes widened, as much as they could, and Morrison’s smile turned sad, “Yes, I am despicable. I know that there is no way you would even remotely like me, but I hope you can forgive me. I did what I think is right, and…”

 

                “Well, _boohoo_ , Jack, you did some bad shit…like five-hundred years ago? Who…the fuck cares?!”

 

                At the snap, Jack was shell-shocked, a hand coming up to cover his mouth, “ _You called my name!_ You _never_ call my name!”

 

                Gabriel rolled his eyes, proceeded to regret the action instantly, and scoffed, “Really? That’s…what you concern y’self…about? Fine, _Jack,_ but get my ass…and yours away from here.”

 

                “…Not in that condition! I don’t know…It has been two weeks! I might not be able to control myself!”

 

                “Rather…die than bein’…captured again. Plus, if y’…were that bad with impulses…Ya’d…have jumped me…about five minutes ago…”

 

                The weak smile wasn’t the same yet, but Gabriel was relieved to hear the familiar drop of playfulness in Jack’s tone, even if it was shaken, “Always have been wanting to jump you. Not like this, though. Maybe a little less bondage?”

 

                Gabriel gave him an unimpressed stare, prompting a tiny chuckle from the vampire. Jack took a tentative step forward. The shift was immediate, flaring nostril and blown-wide pupils. It didn’t bode well. But the clock was ticking and Gabriel was addled by all the tortures. So he spoke the first thing that came to his mind, his head lacking the ability to think coherently at that moment.

 

                “I don’t think…they fed me…much…either. I mean, I’d…kill for a…goulash right now.”

 

                There was a beat of silence, and Jack’s laughter was loud, boisterous the way Gabriel knew, the way he was _fond of_. While the colours were yet to there on his cheeks, and despite being surrounded by the corpses of enemies, Jack’s smile was brighter than the sun, if not a bit delirious, “Really? Food? Only you, Gabe. Only you…”

 

                His steps became surer, and a smile teased the corner of Gabriel’s split lips, too, “Just imagine it…tender…beef chunks in…hearty broth, fragrant…lard and…vegetables…”

 

                He kept talking, even if his lungs were at the brink of collapsing, he kept talking because that agony in Jack’s eyes was held at bay, because Jack’s laughter and smile was less broken. If the vampire’s breathing hastened the closer he got to Gabriel, neither of them made note of it, and Gabriel didn’t even flinch when Jack buried his face into the crook of his Hunter’s neck, inhaling the scent there like it was his last. Gabriel gave Jack the time to adjust, babbling on about the stupid goulash as a pale hand rested on his battered chest, feeling his heartbeat. And he kissed back this time, when Jack couldn’t stop himself.

 

                And if he was carried out of the dungeon in Jack’s arms like a fucking bride, Gabriel didn’t complain.


	2. Black Flowers Blossom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Everything has a price."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my friend [misbehavingvigilante](http://archiveofourown.org/users/misbehavingvigilante/pseuds/misbehavingvigilante). Because of this person did I decide to write this. I hope you will enjoy this my dear!
> 
> Great thanks to [Namashe](http://namashe.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing this for me *wild cheering*
> 
> EDIT: Chapter has been fully edited by me (21/10/2016).

 

* * *

 

                Gabriel hated travelling by sea.

 

                “You know, given another ten thousand years, I wouldn’t have guessed _you_ of all people have seasickness.” Jack’s shit-eating grin was just as annoying as ever, even when his hand was gentle on Gabriel’s back. The Hunter didn’t know whether he should punch the vampire in the face or kiss him. Perhaps the latter, so he could puke all over Jack’s precious, impeccable suit. In the end, Gabriel decided on neither and dry heaved over the railing instead.

 

                “You know, you should probably shut your face before I broke something.” After a rather intense gag, Gabriel grunted in an attempt to mock Jack. The vampire’s chortle was a tad too delighted, and he nuzzled into his handler’s temple, purring.

 

                “You won’t. You love me too much.”

 

                Gabriel refused to dignify that with an answer, and focused on holding onto what little dignity he had left.

 

                The port town where their ship docked was bustling with activities, though Gabriel hadn’t the capability to observe just yet. The fishy smell worsen his nausea and the noises made his head spin. He could only be thankful of the solid ground beneath his feet, and perhaps Jack’s steady hand on his elbow. Sniffling from the excessive hacking and retching, Gabriel tried to take in the scenery around him, attempting to get used to the atmosphere and ignoring the stifled snickers Jack was emitting.

 

                Japan was…different. Gabriel had never travelled to this side of the world before, certainly not to an island country. Everything from the street to the people were unfamiliar. The clothing seemed rather impractical, all loose and flowing, but Gabriel supposed that they couldn’t be more terrible than those elaborated gowns the ladies back in Europe preferred.

 

                Jack was certainly chipper, probably because Gabriel had to lean on him a little in order to stay upright, and he sauntered about like it is his backyard, gaining plenty of stares along the way. The vampire seemed completely sure of where he is going, babbling rapidly about all kind of food that Gabriel might want to try.

 

                “…Of course I have never tasted them before, nor can I taste anything at that matter, but I heard dango are excellent sweet treats! And there is this curious dish called kitsune udon! _Kitsune_ means fox, so I’m not sure whether they actually use fox meat for that or not, but I am sure it will be a pleasant experience nonetheless! Oh! And there is this treat called namagashi for tea ceremony! I know you are a fan of tea and a fan of _food_ -…”

 

                “Can you stop talking for just a second???” Gabriel hissed under his breath, his senses had finally stabilised, and the attention they were getting unnerved him, “I thought we are here to lay low, not painting targets behind our backs!”

 

                “Relax, Gabe.” Jack chuckled, taking the opportunity to lace their fingers together, “Overwatch doesn’t get to operate around here. Japan is off limit. You know that.”

 

                 Narrowing his eyes, Gabriel ignored Jack’s sunny smile.

 

                Back in Europe, they were chased every other way by Overwatch’s agents and while both of them are fully capable of handling themselves, Jack didn’t want unnecessary bloodshed. The people sent to them were only following orders and Gabriel knew it was only a matter of time before Ana or Lena or Reinhart showed up. While Gabriel chose this path on his own accord, he didn’t want them to be forced into that choice. He didn’t leave any clue behind, but Ana was a smart woman, she definitely would be suspicious after Gabriel’s disappearance.

 

                Overwatch needed a purge. That was unquestionable. They needed to get their hands on Satya Vaswani and all that supported her. But they could not do so when she continuously sent out pawns, _innocent people_ , after them. Gabriel was willing to bet on his mortal life that most of them didn’t even know what they were ordered to walk into. With just the minor digging he did back then, Gabriel understood he barely scratched the surface, even without Jack’s confirmation.

 

                The little fool…

 

                Getting away was an easy solution. Jack had no reason to trick him and Gabriel wasn’t worried about that like he used to a couple of years back. So when Jack put out his offer, Gabriel didn’t hesitate. If only it was mainly for Jack’s sake.

 

                The click-klack of stone-paved road under the soles of their boots dragged Gabriel back to the present. Jack was just as flashy as ever in his stark white and blue accented attire, skipping next to a glob of complete blackness that is Gabriel. Their suitcases bounced on their thighs, cloaks fluttered with every step, fingers laced together, and Jack still babbled on and on. Well, at least the little shit was on high spirits…Even the strains upon Gabriel’s brows lessened at the bright grins Jack flashed him, at the tiny squeezes and at how Jack walked close enough to bump their shoulders together affectionately every so often. Certainly was an improvement from the worried glances, the desperate night-time hugs and the stolen kisses, as if they would be the last.

 

                 When the late light cast liquid gold over slanted roofs and white walls, they finally arrived at an open ground, leading towards simple yet imposing gates, bearing a carved crest of coiling dragons. While Gabriel was sceptical about this, Jack strode over and entered by the smaller side-door. The courtyard was empty, surrounded by a series of buildings of white, crimson and grey. It surprised Gabriel as none of these constructs had any door, allowing peers to see everything inside.

 

                Immediately, Gabriel felt exposed. If this was Jack’s idea of a safe place, Gabriel retained his doubts until proven otherwise. Being beautiful and extravagant was not equal to safety.

 

                As their footsteps creaked the wooden porch (Gabriel noticed Jack had slowed down significantly), a figure hurried towards them from an adjacent gate, sprouting loud words that Gabriel didn’t understand. Arms flailing (one curiously had a metallic glint) in the same clothing they saw men wore all over town, dark and striped. Yet perched atop his head was a blatant _cowboy hat_ , faded and frayed. The face under it was definitely not Japanese either.

 

                However, at the first sight of Jack’s knowing grin, the figure halted. Bearded cheeks stretched into a massive grin as he let out a joyous shout, arms opening and rushing forward. Startled, Gabriel growled when Jack untangled his fingers and charged over with the same enthusiasm to give the strange man a bear hug.

 

                “Jesse! It has been too long!”

 

                “Right back at ya! Didn’t expect y’ to visit!” The other man slapped Jack’s back jovially, slinging his prosthetic arm over the latter’s shoulder. And there it was…The tell-tale glints of fangs. Tensing up out of instinct, Gabriel cleared his throat. It seemed to do the trick, as the other vampire, _Jesse_ , looked up and flashed Gabriel an _oh-so familiar_ sultry smile.

 

                “And y’ brought a gift. How thoughtful…” The crisp, fresh afternoon air suddenly smelt strongly of smoky pinewood and fresh cut grass. Gabriel’s eyebrows twitched, but Jack beat him to it.

 

                In a flash, Jack was there with his back pressed flat against Gabriel’s chest, the curve of his ass tucked deliciously against the Hunter’s crotch. A feral smile tugged at the corners of Gabriel’s mouth, hidden behind wild tuffs of golden hair. He let his lungs be filled with overwhelming scent of sunshine and honey. Possessive. _He loved it_.

 

                “Back off, McCree. He is _mine_.” Jack purred with an edge to his usual silky voice. The other charm disappeared immediately and Jesse’s smile turned friendly once more. Waving large hands before him in a peaceful gesture, Jesse’s laughter boomed.

 

                “Relax, partner. Y’ scent reeks off o’ him an’ likewise. I ain’t stupid to come between that. ‘Sides, I’ve got m’ own mate now. Can’t be dippin’ m’ finger in every pie, y’know?”

 

                “Good boy.” Jack smirked, his figure went lax once more, even though he still fitted against Gabriel’s hard body. The latter had no complaint about this, weaving his free hand under Jack’s suit jacket and waistcoat to rub tiny circles into his side. A pleased rumble escaped his throat as Jack melded himself impossibly closer.

 

                “Where are my manners?” Jack’s gesture was lazy, almost uncaring, “Jesse, meet Gabriel Reyes, my mate. Gabe, meet Jesse McCree, my broodling.”

 

                The rubbing motion immediately ceased. “… _What???_ What do you mean _broodling_?!”

 

                Jesse seemed awfully pleased at Gabriel’s bewilderment, grinning to show off his fangs again. The Hunter was definitely _not_ amused. And Jack wasn’t even remotely concerned, “Jesse was one of my handlers back in the days.” Another growl bubbled in Gabriel’s chest, even when Jack squeezed his hand, “There was an accident. During one of the missions, he was gravely wounded. I…ah…I was ordered to _turn_ him.”

 

                There was a twinge of sadness in Jack’s voice and his grip on Gabriel’s hand tightened. Every trace of anger slipped from Gabriel, and he pulled Jack closer instead. Even Jesse’s playful demeanour sobered somewhat as Jack continued, “I should have known better. He was turned into an experiment by Overwatch as well. Since he was a prototype, as they said, he was treated far worse than I was. I broke him out and brought him here.”

 

                “Hey now, matey.” Jesse’s golden-brown eyes turned soft, “Y’ did what y’ had to. Me? I ain’t havin’ no regret. If y’ didn’t do what y’ did, I wouldn’t have been here. Wonderful home with wonderful mate. Life can’t be an’ sweeter.”

 

                Trust Jack to have sentimental issues…This was unexpected still, though it didn’t stop Gabriel from looping his arm around Jack’s waist and nuzzling into the vampire’s ear. His sigh was barely audible, but the smile soon returned to Jack’s lips, if not a bit mischievously so, “You know what that means, right? It means Jesse is _your broodling too_ , Gabe!”

 

                It took a frozen second for Gabriel to respond. Pushing Jack away and turning the idiot around to face him, Gabriel was beyond uncredulous as he pointed at the other grinning vampire, “What the _fuck_ , Morrison?! I don’t want a _child!_ Not _him!!!_ He is probably _older than me!!!_ T _he fuck?!_ ”

 

                At least it brought forth a happy chortle, Gabriel begrudgingly thought. Though neither of the vampires got to continue with their foolishness, as another voice cut in, deep and commanding. Immediately, Jesse whirled around and sidled up to a man dressed in a white top and blue pleated pants that Gabriel almost mistook for a skirt. Even though his body was hidden behind folds of rustling fabric, the man’s power was evident in the way he carried himself, sharp brown eyes bright and hands joined authoritatively before his chest. Cut jaws were defined with trimmed hair, silk ribbons fluttered with every dignified step. Jesse exchanged a few quick words in Japanese with this man, the utter adoration in the vampire’s eyes painted a thousand words.

 

                 Gabriel gave this display a sceptical stare. Jack smirked.

 

                “Morrison.” The man finally turned to regard them, his accent prominent in English. Jack’s smirk widened into a grin.

 

                “ _Shimada-san_. You have aged well.”

 

                The man ignored the remark, “Here to disturb our peace once more, I see.”

 

                “I can see the disturbance I once brought has grown into part of the household.” Jack was completely undeterred, even when _Shimada_ ’s impressive eyebrows furrowed, “It is good to see you again, Hanzo.”

 

                There was a beat of silence. Jesse was slightly uncomfortable and alert with his chin hooked over Hanzo’s shoulder and arms circling around the man’s waist, whilst Gabriel tensed once more. In the end, Hanzo relented, even though his frown remained unchanged as he eased himself out of Jesse’ grip, “I cannot say the same, unfortunately. But as long as you are here, you are welcomed within the Shimada Castle.”

 

                Jesse visibly relaxed, grinning and draping an arm over Hanzo’s shoulders, whose scowl deepened, “Aw’right!!! What y’ standin’ ‘round for? It’s dinner time!!!”

 

                Gabriel raised an eyebrow, “Being invited to dine with a vampire? Now _why_ don’t I feel safe about this offer?”

 

                His oozing sarcasm evoked a laughter from Jack. Even Hanzo with his uncaring demeanour, quirked his lips upward in a beginning of a smile.

 

                This was certainly getting interesting. Simple curtseys are exchanged and Gabriel finally realised why the name Shimada sounded familiar. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, Jack knowing the clan that was responsible for keeping the whole of Japan safe.

 

                As they followed Hanzo, Gabriel cringed a little at Jesse’s interaction with the man. The fledging vampire hung onto every word the Shimada spoke and regarded him with so much love that the air almost tasted sugary.

 

                Venturing deeper into the compound revealed a wondrous sight of cherry blossoms in full bloom, scattering pink petals created a soft contrast against the stone work of the inner courtyard. Their fragrance was gentle in the late-day breeze, and the rustling wind was soothing to the mind. It was overwhelming in a strange, peaceful sense.

 

                The scenery halted his steps, and Gabriel had to take a moment, stunned. Briefly, he registered Jack linking their fingers together once more. The smile on his vampire’s lips was contented.

 

                “Even after all these years, this place never ceases to amaze me.”

 

                “It is quite beautiful.” Gabriel agreed as they resumed their steps. For such a grand place, it was rather deserted. There was, however, a lithe bald man sitting under one of the trees, legs folded and eyes closed. His garbs were old and tattered around the edges, unlike Hanzo’s and Jesse’s impeccable clothing, gold with flowing sashes of white and red. His torso was bare, showing off lean muscles and tanned skin. Around his neck was a rosary of sort, made of nine massive orbs, intricate in designs and clicking against each other quietly with every breath he took. As they neared, the deep, even inhales and exhales softened, and the man opened his eyes to reveal shocking blue.

 

                “Master Hanzo, Master McCree.” His palms came flat together as he bowed, then fluidly turned to repeat the motion at Jack and Gabriel, “Honoured guests. Welcome to Hanamura.”

 

                “This is _Tekhartha_ Zenyatta.” Jesse beamed, gesturing at the monk.

 

                Awkwardly, Gabriel nodded, whilst Jack returned the bow smoothly, “My name is Jack Morrison and this is Gabriel Reyes.”

 

                “I hope your stay will be pleasant.” Zenyatta’s smile was just as light as his voice, perfectly matching the tranquil tone of the scenery. He seemed to want to speak more, but a disturbance interrupted the serenity of their arrival. An unexpected, raspy voice groused behind them, shattering Gabriel’s wary ease of mind.

 

                “ _New blood._ ”

 

                Startled, Gabriel’s twin shotguns whipped out, pointing straight at _a suit of armour_. He would have shot that metal bucket into a mess of scraps if Hanzo didn’t call out harshly, “Genji! _Manners!_ ”

 

                White-clad hands rise up with palms forward, though Gabriel didn’t lower his guns. Jack’s shell-shocked expression didn’t help the Hunter’s high-strung nerves either. Gabriel glared at the figure, blood thumping in his ears.

 

 _Genji_ was completely covered from head to toe in white and grey plating. However, unlike most other tacky armours Gabriel had seen in his life, the metal seemed to meld along this…person’s body, defining shapes and muscles as if it was _a second skin_. An ivory shawl wrapped around Genji’s shoulders, looking almost like a _stuffed fox_ if it wasn’t for the extra swats of fur. The armoured man carried two swords of different sizes that were strapped behind his back. What most unnerving on this person was the helmet, smooth and sharp, lacking any features with only a narrowed slit for the eyes, from where glowing green light flickered, seething like hell fire.

 

                “ _Genji_???” Jack suddenly spoke, dazed as he gawked at the armour, “What happened to you???”

 

                “Hello, Jack.” The accented voice brushed both Jack’s bewilderment and his question aside, bowing just as respectfully as Zenyatta had, “You seem well.”

 

                It was…awkward then, to say the least. Hanzo’s jaws tensed, Jesse was a mix between cautious and alarmed, holding onto his mate’s hand tightly and Gabriel refused to lower his guns. It took some of Jack’s insistent tugging on his arm for the Hunter to loosen his stance. Gabriel had seen a fair share of weird shit in his life, but the collection of oddities here in Hanamura gave him a bit of a headache. A fledging vampire, the head of a powerful clan, a strange monk and now a haunted armour? That was enough for the day…

 

                He shouldn’t have even thought that.

 

                The scarf around Genji’s neck suddenly _twitched_ and fell to the ground, _swelling_ rapidly in size and taking a strange, lumpy humanoid shape. This time, Gabriel let his instinct take over and shot _the girl with nine swishing tails_ right in the face. His shotguns’ roars tore the silence into shreds, painting the courtyard crimson. The monster flopped down in splatters of blood and fur before their bewildered eyes, head all but blown to bits.

 

                Jack’s eyebrows crept to his hairline. Gabriel’s teeth were baring and he was ready to shoot everyone else that dared to make the next move. What in all burning Hell was _that thing_?!

 

                However, despite the gruesome bloodshed, Hanzo simply huffed, annoyance creeping into his voice once more, “Hana, have you not learnt? Stop _being a child_ and get up.”

 

                The corpse gave a dramatic groan. She then twitched, slowly rising up with her arms dangling and jerky. Blood retracted into her body in rivets and the skull knitted itself back together with crunching, sickeningly wet noises. The fuzzy tails coiled and uncoiled around her body, fluttering with the extravagant silk gown of pink and blue she wore. And despite there was a sulky pout to her blushing lips, the red in her eyes glinted mischievously.

 

                “I only wanted to say hi. He is the one being rude.” She pointed a sharp nail at Gabriel accusingly, who had not moved the barrel from her face.

 

                Gabriel snarled.

 

                After what felt like an eternity, Zenyatta’s clap brought their attention back to the world.

 

                “I suppose it is dinner time now?”

 

                Upon informed of their reason for becoming refugees, Hanzo had not been happy. That was to say, the Shimada wasn’t surprised either. The _shaman_ didn’t like the prospect of being at odds with Overwatch, yet congratulated them for escaping the organization’s talons at last. As their host and shelter provider, Hanzo demanded the both of them to keep their heads down and out of Overwatch’s sight. But also, he expected them to help out with the Shimada clan’s missions. Throughout dinner, Gabriel stayed quiet, only spoke up whenever spoken to, obviously in discomfort of their situation.

 

                It was frustrating. Running away had never been his first choice, even when he was beaten to half-dead. Gabriel could never stomach well unsolved and avoided issues, much less straying as far away as possible from them. But experience came with understanding. Even if he wanted to dismantle Overwatch brick by brick for what they had done, part of him knew there were the innocents too. Blinded and lied to, but still innocent. That one fact wasn’t enough to quench his rage, however, for being betrayed. He had spent his entire youth on a foundation of deceit and no matter what good he had done, it could never wash off the blood on Overwatch’s hands.

 

                Of course Jack disagreed.

 

                In the end of the day, they saved lives. People, _humans_ , were alive because of Overwatch. Their goal stayed the same. What was one or a few vampires against the population? The need of many outweighed the need of the few, right? Feeble argument. But Jack was so desperate that night when he suggested them leaving, so torn and agonized. They both knew if Gabriel was to stay, he would have tried to start some kind of rebellion. And he would have died trying.

 

                Gabriel’s musing was solemn in its silence, even as the two of them were led to the bath house behind the compound. Shimada Castle was not as empty as Gabriel originally thought, the servants of the clan were trained to be neither heard nor seen, but present whenever they were needed. Creepy, but useful.

 

                The bath house was just as excessive as the rest of the place, with steaming hot water in what resembled a small lake rather than an ordinary tub. The servant left them a bucket of items on stone-paved floor, bowing respectfully before disappearing behind the sliding paper door. Standing with his bare feet on the cool surface, because they weren’t supposed to wear shoes around the house for some reasons, Gabriel had a moment of uncertainty when Jack quickly shimmied out of his clothes and stepped into the water with an appreciative sigh.

 

                There was no roof above them. Strange, but Gabriel supposed he couldn’t complain. Water shimmered under the moonlight as it slid on Jack’s pale skin, every muscle and sinew glistened tauntingly as he went deeper into the lake. Golden hair was damp and darkened, sky blue eyes were half-lidded and plump lips parted in a hum. Swirling mist only further accentuated Jack’s whimsical aesthetic, giving him the illusion of a vivid dream.

 

                He was beautiful, more beautiful than anything Gabriel had ever seen in his life.

 

                Long, almost transparent lashes fluttered when Jack finally noticed Gabriel’s staring. A gradual smile bloomed as he beckoned his lover with a teasing finger, other hand smoothed down toned abs in a painfully teasing pace, disappearing just under his cut waist.

 

                Ah, two could play that game.

 

                The leather gloves were discarded first, finger after finger. The trench coat was casually shrugged off, pooling around his ankles like an oil slick. Gabriel made two steps towards the bath, paused and then slowly loosened his tie. He ignored the bubbling want in his chest and the coiling of heat in the pit of his stomach, and kept unwavering eye contact with Jack the entire time. When the first button of his shirt was popped open, the vampire’s fangs elongated, and a tip of pink tongue darted out to wet his jutting bottom lip. Despite the thick moisture in the air, Gabriel’s mouth was dry, but his grin was wicked as he undid every button in a painstakingly slow pace, all the whole prowling towards the water.

 

                Jack’s growl was feral when Gabriel finally discarded the shirt. The Hunter’s hand skimmed across the front of his pants, a brush so subtle a human would have missed it. Buckles and holsters slid off smoothly, heavy guns joined the clothing pile with separate clicks. Jack’s trailing gaze burned a path across his exposed skin, lingering on the offending hem that hung suggestively just above Gabriel’s prominent bulge.

 

                The vampire’s hiss was both impatient and satisfied when Gabriel was, at last, naked, standing just inches away from the water. Of course, the Hunter just has to push his luck as he sat over the raised stone edge and braced his legs apart in the warm water.

 

                Jack was upon him like a hungry predator, immediately taking Gabriel’s entire hard length down his throat and simply _held it down_. It took every ounce of control to not shout and cum right there and then, when the vampire glanced up, pupils blown so wide only edges of blue remain, framed with matted golden lashes. His lips were impossibly stretched and his blunt nails dug into Gabriel’s buttocks with force enough to leave bruises. The Hunter’s breaths came out in baited gasps when Jack slowly pulled away, tongue dragged wetly along the base of his cock all the way to the tip, where it swirled deliciously against the slit.

 

                Jack’s humming moan had Gabriel’s hand shooting out to weave itself into golden crown. Sharp fangs teased the exposed head, only enough for Gabriel to feel the pressure, and drove him absolutely crazy. Jack’s cheeks hollowed as he sucked, lapping and kissing and nipping as he went. Gritting his teeth, Gabriel yanked Jack’s head back, hissing when his cock slapped the vampire in the chest as he covered his mate’s mouth with a bruising kiss, tasting himself on Jack’s tongue.

 

                Pulling Gabriel into the water with him, Jack held them both up with his supernatural strength, tongues and teeth dancing together, hands groping and cocks rutting. Jack’s nails raked down Gabriel’s back and Gabriel snarled, hoisting Jack up by the ass. Long legs immediately wrapped themselves around the hunter’s waist. Jack hissed against his mate’s mouth when his cheeks were parted, and gun calloused fingers, wet with saliva, found his puckered hole. The blunt intrusion made Jack rip away from their savage kissing, moaning as he sunk his teeth onto Gabriel’s shoulder.

 

                Familiar, unexpected pain was followed by the dizzying sensation of venom, and Jack used Gabriel’s temporal moment of disorientation to lap greedily at the spilled blood, fucking himself on thick fingers and smearing his weeping cock all over his mate’s hard muscles. The natural, or _supernatura_ l at that, scent of honey and sunshine mixed in with the floating steam into something tangible, sweet and curled within Gabriel’s chest in a warmth that was now essential to him. Gabriel could taste it in the air just as he could taste it on Jack’s skin, lovely and bewitching when angry red marks were sucked along the pale expanse of his vampire’s neck. Jack arched back, moaning with blood-stained fangs, offering his throat to Gabriel, who nipped and pulled at the skin there. Fingers pumped lazily, knuckle-deep, curling and rubbing at the spot that had Jack howling in pleasure.

 

                There was no warning give when fingers were replaced, cock thrusting in a smooth roll of the hips. Jack _wailed_ , his back bowed backward as he hung onto Gabriel by steeled legs and scrabbling hands. No matter how many times they had done this, it still amazed Gabriel how _solid_ Jack was and yet as light as a feather. The vampire all but lay above the water, with Gabriel’s one hand on his hip and the other on his cock, jerking and fucking him. Pale skin glistened with both mist and sweat, golden hair floated about his head like a halo, blue eyes rolled to the back of his skull as he _screamed_ , uncaring of anyone that might be listening. Gabriel’s hips snapped forward violently, hilt-deep in every slam and pulled out to the very tip, only to repeat the motions over and over again.

 

                The noises escaping Jack was a mangle of moans and shouts, arms failing in the water without purchase. Gabriel gritted his teeth so hard they might have cracked, his control was pushed to the limit before this creature, sinful and beautiful like liquid moonlight.

 

                “ _Gabriel!_ ” Jack sobbed, his whole body convulsing. Back curved and fangs elongated in an open-mouthed, silent scream as he climaxed.

 

                Streaks of white painted his sculpted abdomen, his muscles shook in bouts of uncontrolled spasms. Gabriel chased his own orgasm, lifting Jack up to slam their lips together. Moaning, the hunter’s hip stuttered through the aftershock and slowed when Jack’s arms came around his neck, their foreheads touching between hot puffs of breaths. The world faded out of focus than, every thought flutters away with the rolling steam, only to leave behind the startling blue of Jack’s eyes.

 

                A chuckle escaped Gabriel. Jack grinned, rubbing their noses affectionately together. They sunk down to settle in the warm water, bodies buzzing in the aftershock. Still entangled with each other, they exchanged lazy kisses, boneless and contented. The night was quiet once more, and they let the water run its course, wash away the grime and their tiredness with gentle waves.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                Once again, given the profession he had, Gabriel had seen a fair share of peculiar things in his life. That didn’t mean it couldn’t get rather difficult to get used to a brand new set of strange habits, creatures and just about everything in general.

 

                For instant, the Shimada clan was quite open in the fact that they enlisted helps of a number of mythical and supernatural entities in their mission to protect their people. They were open in their operations and the people adored them for it. In fact, the Shimada Castle was doubled as a shrine of sort, where townsfolks would come and pray. Often they would come to consult the wisdom of Zenyatta, to leave offerings to the kumiho, Hana Song, and to ask for Hanzo’s favours. Everyone was respectful towards the Castle’s residents. And by extension, that included Jack and Gabriel as well.

 

                Honestly, with how Gabriel was still trying to get familiar with everyday objects and routines, he didn’t need people awing over his stature or wanting to speak Japanese to him. Gabriel found the need to leave shoes outside before entering a house tacky, even after being given those sandals. In fact, the sandals were the worst footwear he had ever had to put on. They slipped and slid at every turn, the straps dug between his toes painfully and the wooden bases had awful purchase against paved roads. The straw version was slightly better, but they were too light and tended to fly off his feet without Gabriel even noticing. However, the robes, hakama, were strangely liberating. The pleated, dress-like pants had no movement restriction and the coat came with it, haori, was just as good in concealing weapons as his trench coat was, plus a lot less heavy.

 

                Another positive point, it was so incredibly easy to undress, for both himself and Jack. Gabriel found himself not minding the triangle gaps along the thigh areas one bit, they framed Jack’s muscles so perfectly in a hidden, tantalizing way.

 

                The food they served here was just as strange, if not refreshing, though Gabriel still didn’t understand the unnecessary steps for tea. The sweets were sublime, but they took a painfully long time to make and looked almost too good to eat when completed. The noodles definitely were his favourite though, and Gabriel often found himself joining Genji, Hana and Jesse at a corner ramen stall called _Rikimaru_ every now and again. Despite earlier reservations, the hunter got along quite easily with those three. They reminded him of Jack, one way or another, especially with their playful attitudes and devastating powers.

 

                Genji was a spirit inhabiting the enchanted set of armour. His body was destroyed during the Shimada clan’s internal conflict a couple of years back. Genji’s soul was preserved, channelled into the armour by Hanzo and a mysterious sylvan elf named Angela. Given his state of being, Genji was both corporeal and ethereal, able to manifest his own soul into the Dragon Guardian that protected the Shimada clan in battle, just like his brother.

 

                Hana was a kumiho, a legendary Nine-tailed Fox that had lived for a thousand of years. She was from Korea originally and was travelling the world to satisfy her curiosity when she met Genji. The two have been good friends since. Hana possessed an array of mystical powers, from transformations to lesser magical abilities and was generally immortal, if recovering from Gabriel’s bullet wasn’t evident enough.

 

                And, of course, last but not least, Jesse was Jack’s creation. Unsurprisingly, he took blood from Hanzo. The shaman, well-versed in the arts of controlling spirits and elements, empowered Jesse over the years the vampire had resided here. Jesse was powerful, not in the same way as Jack, but powerful nonetheless. The vampire seemed to favour an old school revolver that he blamed on unshakable habits, just like his awful cowboy hat over the yukata that made Jack cringe every time he so much glanced at Jesse. They, Jesse and Gabriel, also turned out to be quite a team, which might or might not have Jack rather jealous.

 

                But it wasn’t just food and normal day in, day out little things that had Gabriel somewhat stumped. Fighting was different and Gabriel soon learned than most of the skills he knew is completely useless here. Monsters could be hurt by bullets, but not necessarily banished. Most of them required a certain combination of brute force and magic to kill, some they even had to kill _multiple times_.

               

                “Well, this is certainly exciting.” Jack grinned when they scattered to dodge a particularly vicious bakeneko. Gabriel growled in response to him, trying hard to remember which one of the scribbled paper to use. _Spells_ his ass, every one of them looked the _absolutely fucking same_ to him, especially whilst being chased after like this. Fucking Zenyatta needed to go to a calligraphy class or some shit, because these were fucking _terrible._ And Hana had the nerve to look _bored_.

 

                “What kind of _cat_ is this shit?! What kind of cat _raises the dead?!_ ” The Hunter snapped, shooting the head off a shambling corpse while dodging the Changing-Cat’s slashing claws.

 

                “At least now we know what to _not_ get for pet?” Jack prompted, his mist lashing out to round up and grind a group of zombies into dust, “Or get. Whatever your preference is, love.”

 

                This idiot would be the death of him…Hana’s laughter made Gabriel contemplate repeating their first meeting.

 

                Seething azure fire set her tails ablaze, the fox giggled manically as she carved a path straight through the corpse army, their flaking flesh fell like shredded paper around her fluttering hanbok. Fucking Jesse did an appreciative clap, as if he was watching a sophisticated horserace instead of _supervising_ a demon eliminating mission.

 

                “Y’ asked for this, Gabi.” _What the fuck was with vampires and nicknames???_ “Y’ wanted to learn killin’ these on y’ own.”

 

                That was it. Everyone would be getting a bullet from Gabriel as soon as he stopped dropping these scribbles everywhere, “Why the fuck does it have to be paper?! You idiots can’t carve this shit on bullet shells or something?!”

 

                Everyone went silent.

 

                And that was how paper talismans got upgraded to carved shells and arrowheads. Gabriel was obviously triumphant.

 

                Despite the occasional messes and mishaps…All was well. Japan had been a refreshing breath of life that Gabriel didn’t realise he needed before. Jack seemed to smile easier as well, the twinkle in was his eyes lively and happier than Gabriel had ever known.

 

                But nobody mentioned the elephant in the room, and that wasn’t about how Jesse keeps trying to sneak his hands under Hanzo’s elaborated kariginu during boring ceremonies either. The issues with Overwatch stood and, despite how exhilarating hunting an entirely different set of monsters could be, it nagged at the back of Gabriel’s mind, growing more difficult to ignore after every day. He often caught himself wondering how Ana was doing, if Reinhardt had finally retired, if Lena was still the same after his disappearance. If Fareeha was still hanging out at base whenever her mother had a mission, if the kid still visited his bunk…

 

                If Vaswani was causing his friends any trouble. If Overwatch had found another unfortunate soul to replace Jack, if Vaswani still continued her experiments.

 

                Jack and Gabriel…they left everything in a mess. Even though he haf never been the most obsessive over responsibility, Gabriel _hated_ unfinished business. What Satya and those before her had done, still doing, was unforgivable. Bad actions could not be justified by good intention. It just didn’t work that way.

 

                And Jack still eluded the questions involving his past.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                “Why aren’t you careful?! _Why aren’t you more careful?!?!_ ” Panic border-lining fear was clear in Jack’s voice as he tried to stem the gaping, pierced hole on Gabriel’s side. Just because they moved to a different continent didn’t mean there weren’t different, creepy variations of vampire there.

 

                The nure onna had been a particularly nasty one. Body of serpent, arms and head of a woman, and what a hideous face does this piece of shit had. Or _had had_ , after Jack was done with her, anyway. But not before Gabriel was flung into a very convenient stake of bamboo, skewering him like roasted pork.

 

                Well _, fuck_.

 

                “There-there’s _so much blood!!!”_ Jack was downright freaking out right now. In his deluded mind, Gabriel had to give him the props for self-control, because Jack’s pupils were blown wide, his white hakama stained to the elbow. It reminded Gabriel too much of that time in the dungeon with Vaswani. The memory gave him a stab, no pun intended, of discomfort along with the present searing pain.

 

                “Just get me to Zenyatta.” Gabriel’s voice was calm even though he was sweating _and bleeding_ buckets. His consciousness was flickering and he knew he was going into shock. Jack knew that too, and his skin was growing paler considerably. When Jack picked him up, as gingerly as possible, Gabriel was fucking proud of himself for only letting out a grunt instead of an agonized shout. During the sprint back to Hanamura, Gabriel’s focus was foggy, but he could swear there was something wet on his forehead and Jack’s frantic whispers in his ear.

 

                _“Please don’t leave me. Not again. Not you too. Not again. Please stay. I don’t want to be alone anymore…”_

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                Golden candlelight and blond hair snuffing in his neck were what Gabriel woke up to. Everything hurt like hell, so he must be alive.

 

                Could have been worse. Usually when he came to his senses after some terrible accidents on the field, it would be gross smells of medicines overwhelming his already disorientated mind, not sunshine and honey.

 

                Soft head of hair removed itself from his shoulder, too-blue eyes were wide and glassy. A hand came up to caress his scared cheek. For a quiet, peaceful moment, they are both content to simply look at each other. To know that they were both alive, and still here.

 

                “Want to tell me what that was all about?”

 

                Jack seemed to be caught between running away and crying. The vampire averted his gaze, until Gabriel directed it back with a finger under sculpted chin. Gently, Jack removed his hand, kissed the calloused palm and settled back beside the wounded Hunter. Placing a hand over Gabriel’s beating heart, careful to not disturb his heavily bandaged side, Jack snuggled into Gabriel’s shoulder and sighed when his golden hair was petted.

 

                “I am immortal.”

 

                “…Obviously.”

 

                Gabriel yelped when Jack pinched him. A cool huff brushed his skin, and yet Jack was solemn when he spoke again, “You know all my handlers died. They _all_ died. I never loved them as nearly as I love you, but when you spend so much time with certain people, you ought to feel something. Mostly responsible. I don’t…” Jack’s voice cracked, but Gabriel’s fingers never cease massaging his scalp. It reassured him some, and the vampire pressed his nose against his mate’s neck, feeling and smelling the blood that still ran warm and strong.

 

                “…I never want them to die. I never see anyone as… _blood cows_.” A shudder went through Jack, disgusted, but he continued on, “I…never wanted to kill any of them. But shit happens, Gabe. _Shit happens_. Especially in this line of work. Especially when I’m _like this_. If they didn’t get into freak accidents, I would lose control and kill them. Blood…is tempting. Hell, I don’t even know when I would drink too much and kill _you!_ Even now…Even now, if I just let my control slip for a fraction, I would have drained you dry. I could have drained you dry when I carried you back. And I _can’t_ , Gabe. I can’t let this happen _again!_ ”

 

                “You won’t, you love me too much.”

 

                Jack jerked his head up, staring at Gabriel with so much _pain_ in his eyes that was almost unbearable to watch. Gabriel wished he had been in better shape, so he could kiss that hurt away. The line of Jack’s smile was slanted, his sadness unfathomable, “I love you too, Gabe. But I killed my sister.”

 

                Gabriel’s brows shot up, not expecting this of all confessions.

 

                The corners of Jack’s mouth turned downwards even though he was still trying to smile, self-deprecation written all over his visage, “We founded Overwatch together. She was the one who protected me and kept my… _turning_ a secret. She was my first _handler_. She gave me her blood. _Our_ blood. And I killed her because I couldn’t control myself.”

 

                His sigh was shuddering when he sat up, rubbing his face so hard it might leave a bruise, and he refused to look Gabriel in the eye, “I turned myself to the rest of the leaders then. They almost voted to kill me. I was…saved by one vote. At first, it was easy. Quietly retreating from the fray, making up a story about my retirement after my sister’s murder. All information and files about me were erased. Doing the dirty works. The experiments didn’t start until a hundred years in. They didn’t want me to leech off of others’ blood anymore. Rumours were starting here and there, no matter how careful I was. The handler experiments started from there, my dead sister’s tale gave them inspiration. I-…”

 

                The vampire, powerful and a presence larger than life, shrunk to himself, eyes glazed over under the phantoms of his past, “…I tore that first one to shreds only five years in. To this day, even when I was dazed with bloodlust then, I still remember every and each of her screams.” The butts of his palms dug into his eyes, lips pulling back to reveal sharpening fangs, delicate nostrils flaring in his grief, “The enhancement experiments started within the next few decades after I somewhat manages to control my lust.”

 

                Gabriel didn’t need Jack to elaborate. His expressions and what he had seen were of enough explanation. Those must have been the darkest days of Jack’s life. Rage surged and died. Time could not be turned back. There was nothing they could change now.

 

                “I’m just as terrible as those you want to kill, Gabe.” Jack’s hands left his face, though his gaze was bolted to the futon, “You have to realise because of _me,_ because I was too much of a coward to starve myself to death and turned myself to them instead, that _all of this_ happened. I am just as in the wrong as they are, even worse… _I started all of this_. If only I wasn’t so cocky, I wouldn’t have been bitten and turned. In the end of the day, it is _all my fault_.”

 

                Gabriel regarded Jack for long, silent seconds. The vampire looked all but defeated now, hunching in the loose clothes that made him seem far too small. Cornflower blue eyes were wide and unblinking, holding back the tears that surely would shed. Head bowed as if waiting for execution, all his usual vibrant energy had evaporated, waiting for Gabriel’s words that would send him away forever, condemned what little left of his soul to die.

 

                Jack flinched when Gabriel’s good hand found his, “Wow. I know you always have such a high opinion of yourself, sunshine, but this is a little too much.”

 

                Wide eyes met his, brimming with startled moisture, and Gabriel cracked a smile on his dry lips, “One man couldn’t have done all of that. You fucked up. Everyone fucks up in life. You just happen to have a longer one, it’s natural that you would fuck up more. You didn’t want to do all that shit to yourself. _They_ made it worse. _They_ want more people like you. _They_ took your mistakes and blew it up. You were, still are, just being a self-sacrificing idiot.”

 

                Jack looked like he would argue, but Gabriel leveled him with a glare, “Don’t give me the _I-still-did-it-so-I-must-pay_ bullshit either. You paid for it enough. You are still going to grieve for the rest of your immortal life, bearing that burden on your shoulders. That, above all, is enough of a punishment.”

 

                Mouth opened, and then closed. Suddenly, unshed, anguished tears turned into those of burning anger and _fear,_ “ _Fine!_ Whatever, the past is past, you say, but I have no future either! You are going to _die,_ Gabe! You are going to die _no matter what I do!_ You are going to grow old, you are going to slow one day. One day, you would make a mistake and _I might not be there to bring you back!_ You _will_ leave me!!! You don’t have the kind of time I do!!!”

 

                _I can’t be alone anymore._

_I can’t live without you._

_I won’t make it._

 

                The words were unspoken, but they were there. Jack was swallowing back his tears, his knuckles white over his knees. Gabriel raised an unimpressed eyebrow, even when his heart was at the brink of being torn to a million pieces

 

                “Give me some of your time then.”

 

                A single tear did fall then, shocked. Gabriel’s grin widened, taking a trembling hand and placing it over his heart, “You’re too much of a reckless, self-sacrificing moron to be left alone. If I’m not there to watch your steps, you’d probably end up saving a stray cat and killing yourself in the process.”

 

                Jack slapped him, hard. But his tears finally fell free, “ _You fucking idiot!_ ”

 

                And there, lying wrapped up in so much bandages they could be made into enough clothing for an orphanage, half-dead with a sobbing vampire on his chest, Gabriel didn’t think he had ever made a better decision in his life.

 

                What an irony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I make this into a multi-chapter fic? Idk x)


	3. Awake in a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse's tale. And what a strange tale it has been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a gift for the lovely [Senkirowolf](http://senkirowolf.tumblr.com/). Thank you so much for your boundless enthusiasm and I hope you will enjoy this my dear :D

* * *

 

                When he was sent to tackle the duty of being the new handler, Jesse McCree was only a smooth-faced, snot-nosed rookie. Skilled, reckless and dangerous as he was, Jesse was only a kid. Sending him to one Jack Morrison was lamb to the slaughter and he couldn’t be any more oblivious about what he was facing.

 

                Perhaps that was why Jack took pity on him.

 

                Winning streaks and kill streaks alike granted Jesse his youthful arrogance, he wasn’t going to deny he was hypnotised by the vampire from the get-go. Even when he kept his distance and remained respectful on the outside, Jesse was cocky. He didn’t deny Jack’s bewitching charm, didn’t want to, too sure of himself that he could break away any moment he wanted. The vampire was beautiful and is something…elusive, something that Jesse thought he had right in his hands but didn’t. Curiosity and frustration alike, not just because of the charm either, drove him after Jack’s scent, whereas the vampire was simply indulgent in his presence whenever they had to work together. If Jesse was honest with himself, and he usually was, he would admit his boyish, stupidly innocent self had fallen for Jack then, no matter how _little_ genuine feelings there were.

 

                The problem with anything unrequited is that it usually would not work out in the end. And it was never going to work between him and Jack.

 

                Hating Jack was easier than loving him, knowing that there was never anything to love from the start. Especially when Jesse woke up, was turned into the same creature Jack was and left alone to scream after the flutter of white coat and cold glance of cornflower blue eyes. Overwatch penned him like a dog. It turned out Jesse was so caught up with Jack, he forgot to look around him. Too caught up with the praises and lies to see where he was heading to. And he fell to the bottom of the rabbit hole before even knowing that he was falling.

 

                The years of unneeded pain and torments broiled his anger, seething and simmering under his skin. Hatred became an anchor of sort, even when Jesse wasn’t normally subjected to such emotions. It was better than being afraid or feeling abandoned. When Jesse realised Jack went through the same shit that he did, it only fuelled his rage. How could that monster know what was going on and still surrender Jesse to Overwatch?

 

                How naïve of him…Monsters had no heart, they existed only to make and watch the world burn.

 

                More time passed by, the bitter creature turned old, yet unchanging, and he only wished to see the sky again. The experiments rendered him weary and the supposed ever-burning hate was reduced to ember. Flickering and pathetic, he succumbed to their commands, behaving himself for once in his time.

 

                The handler they gave him was a young woman. Couldn’t be any older than he was when he was still _alive_. She was all angles and her beauty concentrated all in that little knowing smile, cunning and strong under all the flowing hair. Ana Amari was just like Jesse when he was recruited, all purpose and hopeful, if not smarter. The building was heavily guarded and Jesse was shackled in cold iron. Unnecessary, because he wasn’t going anywhere. Seeing the starlit night through that crack of window and a breath of fresh air was enough.

 

                Jesse could recognise that smell of sunshine and honey anywhere. The dimmed coal of his fury flared into an inferno when the tell-tale white mist spilled into the room. The guards and Amari all fell at once, unconscious. Snarling at the far too figure standing before him, even though they had not met in decades. The chains on Jesse rattled as he struggled against them violently, lips pulling back to reveal fangs. He hissed like a wounded beast, ignoring the enchanted metal that burnt into his flesh. If glares could kill, Jack Morrison would have been nothing but a charred pile of ash. Yet the vampire stood there, every inch as beautiful as Jesse hated to remember.

 

                “I am taking you away. To a safe place.”

 

                His offering hand didn’t waver even when Jesse tried to take a snap at it. Morrison was awfully still, not the flirty, suggestive creature he used to know. But even when this baffled him, Jesse’s growl didn’t lose the feral tone in it. Even as his confinement cut into him and forced his knee to the ground, Jesse held his head high, defiant.

 

                “F' what, _monster?_ What _else_ can y' possibly take away _from_ me?! So they can make me more like y'?! Isn’t this enough?!” He spat furiously, thrashing because how could he be so _useless_ when the chance for vengeance was here? Jack simply looked passive to all this displays. There was a flash of pain in his too-blue eyes that brought up a nasty satisfaction in Jesse.

 

                “So you _won’t_ become like me.”

 

                After that, Morrison had all but dragged Jesse along, shackled since McCree refused to cooperate. He was left to snarl and snap all he wanted, the enchanted chains drained his vitality quickly even though his jailer had fed him well before meeting with Amari.

 

                “Wouldn’t they know immediately that’s y’ who broke me out?”

 

                There was a faint chuckle, “I am _everywhere._ ”

 

                McCree was puzzled. Looking back, he was glad he didn’t know what Morrison was talking about. Creepy wasn’t even enough to convey the truth behind it.

 

                Morrison talked and talked and _talked_. Talked far more in three days than all he had spoken to Jesse in the span of seven years they had worked together. There was no sunshine and honey this time, just crisp scents of the wilderness surrounding them and, for once, Jesse was somewhat unafraid to breathe around the bastard, even though he didn’t exactly need air anymore.

 

                “Try t’ redeem y’self as hard as y’ can, but y’ ain’t foolin’ me, jackass. Not when y’ ne’er givin’ me a choice.” Jesse had spat, interrupting yet another bout of Morrison describing this _Shimada clan_ where he was going to be sent. The vampire had regarded him with a strange look, something that Jesse couldn’t read and yet felt the combination uncertainty coupling with relief. He wondered if Morrison had charmed him once more, but the air still remained eerily clear.

 

                “There is no redemption for me. I did not break you out in hopes that you would forgive me one day. I fully understand that you never will.” The shake of his head is slow, almost tired, as he prodded the crackling fire that neither of them needed, “I am taking you away so you can make your choices with a clear head and a fresh start. If until then you still wish to kill me, you know where I am.”

 

                “Overwatch’s dog.” Jesse sneered out the insult, but it provoked no reaction.

 

                The land he was brought to, by Morrison’s powers no less, is strange. The people even more so. At first, he was shackled still. Jesse was kneeled in front of a strange mortal man, who kneeled and bowed before him politely in turn with a smile. The others around this man were respectful and soft-spoken as they introduced themselves. There were little ones here, too. Two young masters that probably had never seen a bad day in their innocent and luxurious life. A bright-eyed little squirt and his elegant, prideful brother. McCree didn’t pay much attention to them then. Despite the ridiculous size of their house, a literal _castle_ , the people were humble. And Jesse couldn’t help but admire the quiet strength radiating from the master of the clan, even when he was yet to get over his simmering anger towards Morrison.

 

                McCree wasn’t going to be naïve anymore, he wasn’t going to place his fate in these people’s hands like he did with Overwatch. Like he did with Jack Morrison.

 

                Morrison left just as quietly as he came into Jesse’s life. Jesse had wanted to flee then, not wanting to be watched by those Morrison trusted. But he was severely wounded by the chains and his struggles, it was unlikely that he could run very far. Jesse McCree was as weak as a mortal man, not being able to heal without blood. Oh, he certainly did try to attack those around him, but he was simply too drained to move. Strangely enough, he was brought to a room instead of a cell, sparsely decorated but comfortable, with only paper doors to separate him from the outside world.

 

                “You will be supplied with blood from animals.” Said _Shimadadono_ , unflinching even though he was sitting mere inches away from a wounded vampire, “After you have fully recovered, you are free to leave. But you will not kill the innocent should you want us as enemies.”

 

                Despite the haze of thirst, Jesse was confused. They were going to let him go just like that? Then what was the point of bringing him here in the first place?

 

                Could it be another of Morrison’s ploy? Jesse bristled. No matter what he did, the bastard always seemed to be two steps ahead and spun him around like a mindless idiot. He felt like a trapped bird, screaming for release to his spectators’ sick amusement. Leaving or no, it felt like he would play right into Morrison’s hand once again. Jesse needed to think this one through, something he had mistakenly never done before, but there wasn’t much thinking he could do with this agonizing thirst and pain hanging over his head.

 

                The blood was given as promised. He blanched at the obvious nonhuman taste, though. But for now, it did its job, even if it made Jesse want to vomit. Once every day, a neatly covered bowl was brought to him by quiet servants. Didn’t bother him, Jesse wasn’t here to chat anyway. At first he was wary, but the blood is unmasked, nothing mixed in to hide the terrible livestock smell. In a way, it was reassuring. And it helped Jesse recover, even if slower than it could have been. He wasn’t going to complain, none had treated him like Overwatch had. However, as Jesse became healthier, he was told to partake the chores around the compound as long as he stayed, which was both insulting, considering what he was, and hilarious, a _sweeping vampire_. But Jesse helped them without a complaint, because sitting alone in silence would eventually drive him mad.

 

                It surprised Jesse to see the little masters of the house having to participate in such mundane and lowly activities as well. Unlike the dainty young ladies and masters he used to see back where he came from, these two didn’t seem to mind the dirty labours, especially not the younger one, Genji. Thirteen years of age and hyperactive as a sparrow, the kid was all bright smiles and rapid talks. Curious as a true idiot too, as he skipped around and asked all sorts of questions even though Jesse didn’t understand a lick of Japanese. However, that and Jesse’s indifference towards him did not deter Genji. The kid was bewildered when he, very quickly to his credit, got that Jesse didn’t know the tongue and adamantly dragged his English tutor over, poor sweaty little man, to explain that he would teach the vampire Japanese too. That made Hanzo, Genji’s poise and refined older brother, _snorted_.

 

                Terribly amused, Jesse agreed to Genji’s whooping cheers, even though he wasn’t really planning to stay for long. Knowing some of the language could be helpful, especially when he probable was going to be stranded here for a while. Though he was genuinely surprised when the Master allowed him to enter his sons’ class.

 

                “Aren’t y’ ‘fraid I’d kill y’ sons?”

 

                “If you craved human blood that badly, you would have killed the attending servants long ago.” Came the calm response. Any other word caught in McCree’s throat. Was he that easy to read? Rage flared and died. Looking at the kids, despite Genji being an annoying little shit and Hanzo a little snot, Jesse’s morals wouldn’t let him lay a finger on them.

 

                Children had no fault. These people here didn’t have a hand his fate. His hatred wasn’t birthed by them and shouldn’t be directed towards them. Morrison’s acquaintances or not, these people had been kind to Jesse so far. Even if he would never let his guard down around them, Jesse had no reason to turn against the Shimada.

 

                Genji grew on McCree like an ivy vine, entangling and insistent no matter how much one tried to pry it out. The kid was lively, loud and obnoxious, very much the opposite of being a ninja, which he was training to become.

 

                “A _shamanic_ ninja!” Genji corrected Jesse indignantly, chest puffed up with so much pride, it was one of the few times the vampire could see how he and his brother were related. It made Jesse laugh, heavy hand ruffled up Genji’s unruly tuffs of hair.

 

                “Well, ya ain’t gonna be either if ya keep slackin’ off an’ stuffin’ y’ gizzard like so.” He tipped his head at Genji’s enormous bowl of ramen. The little master pouted, guarding the steaming portion with both hands.

 

                “I’m a growing man! _Tousan_ says eating healthy makes you grow up strong!”

 

                Of course, the _other_ little master had to snort and quip from Jesse’s _other_ elbow, “Eating healthy does not equal to pigging out.”

 

                “Oi! Who you calling a pig, _anija_?!”

 

                “It’s _sama_ to you.”

 

                Jesse’s laughter was easy over the brothers’ bickering. Even though he couldn’t stomach anything in this little noodle stall, accompanying the young ones gave him a sense of normalcy. A little bit of peace in his torn apart mind. McCree still had his doubts and he still had his rage, but this place, where cherry blossoms bloomed so bright and gentle, was not one for him to unleash his grudge upon.

 

                A few months turned to a few years. While the two little masters changed and moulded into the fine young men they were, Jesse was unchanging. Time was but a blink of the eye to him, something he fully possessed and had more than enough to waste. Same went to Morrison, unless the bastard got his ass killed, which he highly doubted.

 

                The kids were thrown into the fray of battle earlier than Jesse had expected. Genji’s first mission was at twelve while Hanzo’s was at eleven. Being the heirs to the clan, they were expected to outdo everyone else at such a tender age. And the missions they were given weren’t just for show. As Jesse’s recovery was complete and he made no indication of leaving, he was tasked to oversee and accompany the two from time to time. And he was forbidden to interfere under _any circumstances_.

 

                Jesse didn’t think much of it until he saw what exactly Hanzo and Genji were sent out to kill. Monsters of manners even McCree had never seen in his life, grotesque, animalistic, cunning and without a shred of moral. That _futakuchi onna_ still have him the creeps, even though it wasn’t too difficult to dispatch of. Many, if not most, of the things he had learnt was useless here. However, Jesse was somewhat glad, if not irked to know that one rule still stood: The more beautiful these creatures were, the deadlier they could be.

 

                Watching the two kids, _young adults_ now, he reminded himself, wresting with the _yuki onna_ , a snow wraith-like creature, it took a lot of self-control to not jump in and help. Both young shamans’ hair were frozen to stiff clumps, especially Hanzo with how long he had grown it out. What visible of their skin was tinted blue and hot breaths turned into mist about them. The screaming, monstrous woman fanned out freezing gusts from her billowing white sleeves, her porcelain face was less beautiful and more crazed now. The boys could do this, Jesse told himself, and grinned when he was right. Hanzo’s flaming arrow was enough of a distraction, just a fraction of second but enough for Genji to summon forth his spirit dragon. The wispy, roaring soul blade pierced through the _yuki onna’s_ frozen heart with a clean crunch, dissipating her into crystallised, howling mist.

 

                 “ _Yeeeeeeeeeeeeah!_ Good job, kiddo!” McCree whooped, holding out a fist that Genji enthusiastically bumped, with all the strength he had left in shaky hands. The fatigue didn’t do much to curb the shaman-in-training’s excitement, though. Being seventeen did nothing to his ever-enthusiastic attitude and Jesse was glad for the kid.

 

                “Did you see that??? That was so epic!!! She was all _rawr_ and _whoosh whoosh_ , and I was like argh! And _anija_ was like “ _No you don’t!_ ” and I’m like _roaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar!!!_ I can’t wait to tell _tousan!_ He ought to be so proud!”

 

                Jesse’s laughter was carefree on the rolling wind and snow, cuffing Genji’s mop of stiff hair playfully, “Hell, I ain’t related to ya an’ _I’m_ fuckin’ proud! I’m sure y’ pops’ gonna be happy ‘bout this.”

 

                Big brown eyes were wide and sparkling as Genji peered up, beaming with boundless eagerness even though his lips were dangerously blue, “You really think so?”

 

                “Can you two stop being idiots and move on?” Hanzo’s voice cut through the air like razors, soured as if he was sucking on lemons, “Victory and celebration mean nothing if we freeze to death.”

 

                Even though Hanzo was entirely right, as per usual, and Jesse was nudging Genji along, the vampire threw a grin over his shoulder, “Needn’t be mad, lil’ master. Y’ did well too.”

 

                Hanzo’s frown became positively thunderous.

 

                Jesse overheard about the _miai_ when the brothers were having a hushed argument, something practically happened once upon a blue moon with how loud Genji could be. Hanzo’s face was stoic and unmoved, but his younger brother was packing back and forth, _furious_. Honestly, Jesse hadn’t meant to pry. He was atop a slanted roof, enjoying the late night breeze when Genji chased after his brother’s deliberated steps here.

 

                 “…Brother, you _can’t_ just-…”

 

                “I can. I did.” Hanzo’s voice was relentless as steel and his footfalls refused to cease until Genji slid before him, blocking the path, “Genji, would you stop being childish for once?”

 

                “I am not being childish! You can’t agree to an _omiai_ like this! Not when you have _that person_ -…”

 

                “ _Genji._ ” Hanzo’s voice was ice, his shoulders rigid, defensive and unwavering, ebbing out something seething and _familiar_. Bitterness. _Hatred_. “ _That person_ does not have the same interest to me as they do you.”

 

                Jesse’ brows climbed up high, leaning closer. Something didn’t sit right in his stomach, an expression of speech without better words to put it. Jesse wasn’t afraid to admit he was growing fond of the boys. It was difficult not to, spending so much time with them and watching over them as he did. Helping them grow had been a joy in his tortured existence, even if he had to drink animal blood for it. It was natural for Jesse to not wanting them hurt, physically or emotionally. And, from what he had heard, it was possibly about some kind of adolescent heart-throbs, a tug between two brothers. Unavoidable, seeing how much they were sought out by throes of adoring young maidens. With their titles, special sets of skills and looks, it was obvious they would be well-loved. Genji especially. While his brother kept up his appearance primly and was impervious to any advance, Genji was more open to… _suggestions._ It gained him plenty complaints from his father and the clan in general, but Jesse couldn’t help but secretly congratulated the kid. He was young, he needed to enjoy his life, a Shimada or not. Hanzo had a long gap to make up if he wanted to be of any competition.

 

                It surprised Jesse however, when Genji bristled, “Are you out of your mind?! I know you are bad with picking up emotions and emotions in general, but what I have with this person is only friendly! You can’t suggest that because we speak more means that you do not have a chance!”

 

                “There is _no chance_ to begin with!” Hanzo’s façade broke, his eyes glowing an eerie azure similar to his spirit dragon, “I am the heir to the Shimada clan. It is my _duty_ to continue our bloodline! You would have understood if you were responsible _for once.”_

 

                “Don’t make this about me!” Snapping, Genji raised to his full height, “Want to be righteous and father’s favourite son? _Fine_ , you _already are_ , but you can’t just give up without knowing the answer! This isn’t like you at all! What are you afraid of?!”

 

                Jesse startled when Hanzo backhanded his brother. The force sent a shocked Genji tumbling, looking up at Hanzo’s cold rage, “Foolish. You might be my brother, but do not mistake for just a second that it may allow you to overstep boundaries. It would be wise to never bring this up again.”

 

                If Jesse’s heart was still beating, it would have stopped at that moment when Hanzo walked away into the darkness.

 

                That one rift had twisted and moulded into something far worse than anyone had anticipated.

 

                Jesse wasn’t stupid enough to believe it was something minor and easily fixable between the two brothers. Hanzo had avoided both Genji and the vampire like a plague, driving himself to exhaustion with trainings. What surprised McCree more was Genji choosing to not see him privately either, constantly missing out their weekly meet up at _Rikimaru_ , making excuses to just sit down and talk, even though the younger brother loved gossiping about the newest groupie he had with Jesse and simple merrymaking. The two brothers’ mood only grew fouler when Hanzo’s supposed match arrived. Pretty as a plum flower, she was descendant of a powerful clan, mild-mannered and soft-spoken. She would make a good wife, someone to take care of the house while her husband was out there defending the land. An ornament, an offering of more power and fortune.

 

                Quite frankly, Jesse thought both Hanzo and the girl, Mei, deserved more than that. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this before, the vampire lived long enough to vaguely know about aristocrats worked. While Jesse shouldn’t be one to talk about romance, a mortal’s life was too short to be bound to someone they held no love for. One of the rare days when Jesse caught Genji off-guard, drunken off his ass in a fit of frustration, the kid explained to the vampire about how the supposed marriage would be. From what Jesse could make out of the slurring words, their duty was to make an heir for the family. After a son is produced, while they still bore their titles as spouses, they were free to _relieve themselves_ with other individuals. It horrified Jesse a little, knowing that both the parents and children were, in the end of the day, they were all little more than objects.

 

                They deserved better, but it wasn’t McCree’s place to interfere.

 

                With neither brother wanting to be in each other’s or his presence, Jesse felt at loss. What was mundane and normal was no more. Humans changed and, whilst they moved forward, Jesse realised he was still frozen in time, since nearly a decade ago. Time passed for him in a blink and the time spent in Hanamura was like a dream. Waking up was simply the next logical step of the way. And yet, his useless heart felt a painful twinge as the illusion of peace was shattered.

 

                “I will not be told off by you!!!” Hanzo roared at his brother, the very moment the last guest departed and after their father was out of earshot. The ceremonial dinner was just as rigid and forced as it sounded, even a blind man could feel the tangible tension in the room among luxurious formal wears and lavishing food. Jesse didn’t understand why Genji had forced him to be there, after so much avoidance, but he agreed, as a friend of the family. The stiff robes were itchy and he hated how the servants had put a copious amount of hair oil on his head to tame unruly thatches, but it was nothing compared to the withering glares from Hanzo.

 

                Jesse was confused. Confusion was a better expression than hurt. It hurt even more when the two men he had taken care of were so close to tearing each other to shreds.

 

                “I am _your brother_ , I have every right to tell you off when you are being an ass!” Genji snarled, his muscles furled like he was preparing to attack, “That was completely uncalled for!”

 

                “So now I need permission to treat my bride’s family?!”

 

                “Bride my ass! You can keep running away from reality all you want, but there will not be an escape for you! You are only lying to yourself!”

 

                 “Watch your mouth, Genji, or I-…”

 

                “Or what?! Murder me in my sleep?! Because that was exactly what I got from your _seething hate!_ ”

 

                “You insolent brat! You know exactly _why_!”

 

                “Why then, or are you too afraid to speak up in front of _him?!”_

                Jesse didn’t know who was more petrified, Hanzo or _himself_ when Genji’s finger jabbed at the vampire’s direction. A moment of deathly silence followed, dragging out like an eternity. Hanzo’s howl was _inhuman_ when he lunged at his brother. Jesse reacted without thinking.

 

                “That. Is. _Enough!_ ”

 

                While Genji struggled in vain against his hold, growling in defiance, Hanzo became frozen solid. Jesse had them by the front of their _hakama,_ iron grip keeping them apart from each other. Unconsciously, he registered, in the air among them, a scent of smoky pinewood and fresh cut grass. Intensified, thickened, as if it had always been there. It was always there…

 

                Genji stiffened. Hanzo became putty in his hand. Jesse’s eyes widened.

 

                The vampire let go of them as if he was burnt, backing off with staggering steps. Hanzo slipped to the floor, boneless and flustered, his irises blown wide and puffs of gasps escaped his parted lips in an unmistakable way. The expression on Genji’s face was unreadable, something Jesse had never seen before, narrowed eyes darting between his brother and the vampire.

 

                Something broke within Jesse. Memories, that he didn’t realise how much he was unwilling to remember, surfaced in a tidal wave, crushing whatever logic was there in his brain. Memories of sunshine and honey, of desperate, _manipulated_ affection. Whatever hatred there was didn’t disappear, it was liquidised and transferred into _this_. Even if he hadn’t meant to, it was _him_ all along. He hadn’t meant to, and yet he had repeated the action that was forced upon him, to someone that he genuinely cared about.

 

                A voice, wheezing and whispering as if it was on its last breath, told him that no, this was _meant to be_. Jesse McCree was a monster after all, and this was what monsters did.

 

                The alluring scent disappeared as Jesse turned and fled.

 

                But he wasn’t fast enough to escape Hanzo’s pained cry, _begging_ for Jesse to come back.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                Somewhere along the way, McCree picked up the habit of smoking. It was a spurred decision, really, something he did to make himself feel better, but barely had any effect. Nothing tasted the same but blood, but the smoke curled around his dead lungs just enough to feel the burn. The stench of cigar masked his supernatural charm just enough, if he was careful.

 

                It was a consolation, not a solution.

 

                Jesse debated on coming back to find Morrison, to finish everything off. But he found himself unable to do so, catching a ship _home_ instead. To the West, where the sun set, the fields running abundant with horses and the wilderness was endless.

 

                Seven decades could do so much to a civilization. He left a lifetime ago and came back a different man. A stranger. A demon. Distractions were always good. Good for seeking a sense of balance after everything was thrown off orbit. Jesse was lost, so he wandered. After so long being at peace, Jesse wasn’t too sure about his hatred. It wasn’t forgotten, it was there and it flared up sometimes when he was alone at night, missing the faint fragrance of cherry blossom. Sometimes he would wonder how Genji and Hanzo were doing, if Hanzo was mad at him after breaking out of the spell. If the young shaman had gone and married Mei.

 

                Jesse missed them, there was no point in denying this. It was hard not to when they had spent so much time around him, growing up around him. The thought of sending a letter fancied his mind as he rode down the dusty routes at time. But he also knew it was better to stay away. It was better for them. He owed the Shimada as much, after everything that had happened.

 

                After acquiring a good outfit, McCree blended in seamlessly with the world around him. He became a bounty hunter, a lone traveller with heavy voice yet respectful in manners, and he rid the States of so many terrible plights. His shots were unmatched and he never failed any mission he picked up. He didn’t take much of the rewards given to him (honestly, what would a vampire do with riches?), only accepted what was needed and gave the rest to those needed it more than he did. McCree became a legend of sort and, for a while, he was content.

 

                It occurred to Jesse that now he was no longer in the land under the Shimada’s protection, he was free to act as he pleased. This range of freedom was unexpectedly refreshing and uncomfortable at the same time. Since he arrived in America, Jesse was only hunting for animals to quench his thirst. The idea of drinking human blood again was both appealing and appalling. Among monsters and the evils rooting all over the land, there were criminals, too. Taking them down had been easy. Drinking their blood…not so much.

 

                It didn’t help when his fangs were inches away from the still warm veins, instead of some strangers he didn’t know, the faces turned to Hanzo’s. Pained, enraged and pale in death.

 

                Cowardice of him, perhaps, but Jesse couldn’t find it in him to try too much.

 

                Other than that, life had been…pleasant. There was a community of supernatural beings whom had fled from Europe and hidden among the untouched, misty greens of the North West. They were wary of Jesse at first, being a vampire and all, but he soon earned a truce of sort, by trading valuable information and rare, specially-needed materials with them for small favours. As a vampire, there were little he could not do physically, but magic was an entirely different matter. Scrying, as was explained to him, was an art. To Jesse personally, it was basically nosing in on people’s privacy using a polished crystal orb. He asked them to find his next targets often and often Morrison’s name was playing at the tip of his tongue. He asked once, none had been able to pinpoint the exact location. Jesse felt foolish. Something that he knew, yet he just wanted to make sure. But he wasn’t even sure what he needed assurance for.

 

                Jesse McCree was a mess, and he never once spoke Hanzo Shimada’s name. There was too much guilt involved to think clearly. Briefly, he wondered if that had been what Morrison had felt when he brought the wounded Jesse to Hanamura.

 

                Here, in the shadowed ranges of evergreen, Jesse McCree met one Angela Ziegler, a wide-eyed sylvan elf that looked far too innocent for her true nature and age. Silver skin and hair glowed like the moonlight, and she was far too ethereal, too beautiful to be of this world. He didn’t know why they became close. Angela was magnetic in a way that was not different from his own charms, but it wasn’t the pleasure of the flesh that had them seeking one another out.

 

                Jesse didn’t believe in the concept of soul. Not for himself, anyway, but Angela did, and she said their beat in a similar pulse, parallel and throbbed with far too many burdens.

 

                “I wanted to travel the world. I wished to help people. But it was not meant to be. I am what I am. My people are feared.” She had told Jesse once, her smile whimsical and dreamy, with a haze of regret that clung to sky blue eyes like spider silk. He didn’t question why she used past tense.

 

                “I wanted t’ help people, too.” He answered, blowing out rings of smoke into the unsullied air, his thoughts faraway, edging dangerously around fluttering pink petals and incense smog, “Am helpin’ ‘em now, but I couldn’t help those who mattered th’ most.”

 

              _Mattered most_ , huh? A way to say it. But Jesse wasn't sure if it was allowed of him. Stepping away was a good decision. It allowed him to think. To shift among the fragments of guilt and hate. Jesse wasn't too sure of himself or his feelings. But he remembered furrowed brows, smiles that were light and hidden, soft footfalls and elegant stance, firm and unyielding. Jesse found himself missing it all, like he missed watching the flowers bloom in the dead of night, quietly in his solitude, missing the feeling of being so close, yet knowing it was not his place to touch or to hold.

 

                It was _never_ his place. Perhaps it was why he hadn't felt so gutted when it chose to move on, to leave him in his own frozen cut out piece of time. Yet it still hurt, because he hadn't realised sooner, because in his confined corner of the mind, he had reached out and tried to take it in a way that shouldn't have happened.

 

               That flower was never his and would never be. It wasn't his right. 

 

                “To admit that, whatever you are doing now must be to atone for the wrong you have wrought.”

 

                Strange elf. Jesse laughed, stubbing the cigar on damp ground and pulled his hat down to hide his eyes, “In a way.”

 

                Silence stretched between them, not all too uncomfortable, but strained because there were far too many hidden thoughts weighing their hearts.

 

                “When you leave this land, will you bring me with?”

 

                Jesse didn’t answer.

 

                Within a few short years, his reputation became a hindrance. As wide the land was, there wasn’t a place for Jesse to go incognito. People might not notice him by face, but words of mouth could be both fascinating and fearsome, as rumours spread like wildfire. Jesse had found his freedom only recently, he wasn’t ready to lose it yet.

 

                There weren’t too many options to choose from either. Jesse wasn’t sure if he was ready to see anyone of his past. And yet, even though he wanted to stay away, there was this urge to see them again, to see _him_ again. To make sure Hanzo was okay. It would be fine as long as he stayed and watched from afar. Just a glimpse. Years had passed, perhaps the memories he created had faded with time.

 

                Even if that was what he reasoned to himself, Jesse’s heart twisted in a strange gush of emotions that he wasn’t willing to explore.

 

                He brought Angela. She was glad of his choice whereas he wasn’t too certain. The waves lurched his stomach when it shouldn’t and the dragged out days turned to mere minutes. Angela had been reasonable company at least, as she spent some of the time to tell him about her people’s legends of the sea. Folktales, creepy and dark, but it distracted him a little.

 

                Whatever resolve Jesse scraped together was torn apart the moment they neared the harbour. Tongues of flames licked the sky, columns of smoke darkened the sun and the screams of despaired humans broke over roaring waves. The ship refused to dock. Jesse jumped straight to the water and swam the rest of the way.

 

                Jesse’s chest constricted as he braved the fire towards the castle, tearing through raiding soldiers. The revolver lay forgotten on his belt, as McCree literally fought tooth and nails across the throes of debris and corpses. Shimada castle was burning and, even though he knew he was forsaken by God a long time ago, Jesse prayed with whatever left of his soul. Words mumbled hastily on peeling lips, slurred together and caught tangled in the middle of his unmoving heart.

 

                _Please be safe. Please be alive. Please be there. I’m here. I’m coming. Please be alive._

 

                The once imposing gates were laid in splinters. Soldiers were still pouring inside. Roaring, Jesse broke the first two’s neck, his punches sunk through the third’s leather armours and pounced another on his back, teeth tearing out spine. Their horrified battle cries were lost in his ears. Jesse moved like a blur, a savage beast that was unstoppable in his unbridled rage. All the pend-up grief, anger and fear were unleashed into a flurry of bloodlust, he ploughed through the humans as if they were paper. His path of destruction was marked with piling bodies and the vampire didn’t slow even when he was wounded. If anything, his pace became faster the more pain was inflicted upon him. Nothing they had here could kill him, lest he was caught on fire, but it wasn’t something that even registered in his hazed mind. There was only one name, a name that was mixed in his roars.

 

                _Hanzo_.

 

                 The compound was far too large. No matter how many Jesse killed, more would appear, blocking his blinding search. His movements grew desperate with the violence and Jesse thought there would never be anything else he could see beside the red of fire and blood.

 

                “ _Ryuu ga waga teki wo kurau!_ ”

 

                Relief threatened to cut all strings on his body. The voice was choked, weak, but the defiance in it burned brighter than any flame. Jesse’s strength returned with vigour and he braved through the mass of ruins and death, this time with a direction and renewed determination.

 

                He found them in the back from of the main building, surrounded and bleeding. There wasn’t any dramatic reveal. Hanzo sat clutching Genji to his chest, every bit regal and beautiful even though broken, dangerous despite having been laid low. His legs sprawled in odd angles, his clother torn up and his skin marred with countless gashes, but the hands holding his infamous bow was unwavering, methodically taking down those who were closing in on him and his unmoving brother without fail.

 

                Their eyes met across the fire, and Hanzo’s eyes widened in a fraction of a second.

 

                The soldiers were brought down without much mercy on Jesse’s part, torn to shreds in his diminishing rage and newfound relief. Bloodlust left him woozy and Jesse was stumbling a little when he approached the brothers. He didn’t even flinch when Hanzo pointed his arrow at his heart.

 

                “I swear t’ God, Hanzo, if y’ wanna kill me, I ain’t gonna argue or run ‘gain. But lemme get y’ an’ Genji away first.”

 

                The words came tumbling out without much thought. If he wasn’t so worried about them suffocating to death, Jesse would have laughed at the sheer irony of his words. But it wasn’t until then did Jesse truly see the state Genji was in.

 

                He was barely recognisable under all the bleeding wounds and charred marks that covered every inch of his body. And there wasn’t a pulse. Genji’s heart was a still as Jesse.

 

                Hanzo’s hands wavered. The weight of the situation began to slump his proud shoulder. For once, the arrogant, smart and powerful man was speechless. His eyes misted over, but too stubborn to let tears fall. If the arrow was released, it wouldn’t have hurt more than the pain already in Jesse’s chest.

 

                Soft footsteps were heard behind them and Hanzo tensed once more. Thick eyebrows jumped just as he fully saw _what_ was approaching. Jesse’s fangs sunk into his own lips, staring straight at the set of armour in full display behind Hanzo.

 

                “Angela. May I ask a favour of you?”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                It was a strange feeling. Staring at the empty space that used to be his hand. There was a phantom feeling where the appendage had been, as if it was still there and could still touch the ground he was sitting upon.

 

                Elves never did anything without a price. Hefty ones, but was worth it.

 

                He stood up swiftly when he heard a rustling sound coming from behind.

 

                “Y’ shouldn’t have got’en up.” Jesse chided quietly, automatically darted over to help Hanzo sit down on a nearby rock. The shaman was quiet, but he didn’t refuse Jesse’s help either.

 

                It had been a few months since the attack happened. Since Jesse pulled both Hanzo and Genji out from the fire. There hadn’t been many words passed between them, especially with Genji getting used to his _new body_ , bound to it by a combination of  Hanzo’s and Angela’s magic. The younger Shimda hadn’t been happy, that was for sure. He woke screaming about Hanzo’s selfishness, that he should have just let Genji go after all that happened, that he _didn’t want this_. There was so much anguish, it staggered Jesse. Hanzo simply bit his tongue.

 

                After Jesse’s departure, Hanzo had called off the marriage. His act enraged both clans, both were dishonoured and soon went to war with one another. Genji was proud of Hanzo’s decision, but instead of mending their bond, the elder of the two pushed his brother away. It set a chain of motions within the clan, from their father’s assassination to pitching the two brothers together in a façade of redemption. With the Shimada fighting among their own, they were easily surrounded. They held out resiliently, but fell in the end and wouldn’t have survived if Jesse hadn’t returned. It was far too close.

 

                There was a lot to talk about, but here, standing before Hanzo, Jesse was at loss for words. The man before him was no longer a child. That image was only something for Jesse to hold onto, another illusion to further solidify his unearned tranquillity. Perhaps it was a bit too late, but Jesse realised that now. There could be no peace unless he made it with himself.

 

                “I owe y’ an apology.”

 

                The gaze meeting his was bleary and far too tired for someone barely thirty, and Jesse found his heart ache for the burden he saw in those brown eyes. Hanzo didn’t answer at first and the vampire’s guts twisted sickly. Jesse was afraid to speak, because he knew he would ramble on. He wasn’t good with words. He said what he had in mind and if he was nervous, it would all pile on top of each other and crush whatever intention he had to begin with.

 

                So he waited, because he owed Hanzo that as well.

 

                The shaman’s sigh was heavy, dropping stones into Jesse’s stomach. Brown eyes turned away from the vampire’s, casting a faraway look over the mountain.

 

                “Do you know, Jesse, that I have always been jealous of my brother?”

 

                Mutely, the vampire shook his head. The curl of a smile on Hanzo’s lips were bitter and self-deprecating, “Genji has always had a better heart than I do. His heart has always been in the right place, despite my father’s scolding and my own denial. I was born as the heir to the Shimada. I was not destined for greatness. I was expected to achieve greatness. And I worked hard for it, because I knew it was the same for my father and his father before him.”

 

                The pause was pregnant and painful. “Then came Genji. He was good. He was young. He was pure. And he was better than me in every which way we tried. He exceeded where I couldn’t, something that no matter how long I poured myself over scrolls of papers and vigorous hours of training, I couldn’t surpass. Genji had raw talents, something that cannot be learned. Father hadn’t been happy.”

 

                And it occurred to Jesse, the little bickering, the dripping sarcasm that he thought was normal, but in truth was to knock Genji down a few pegs. The anger when Genji had been the one to always take down monsters, to make their father proud.

 

                Fuck, Jesse was so, _so_ dense…

 

                  “And then… _you_ came along.”

 

                The vampire wasn’t startled anymore. A hand reached out, subconsciously, to brush a stray strand of hair on Hanzo’s forehead. The shaman leaned into his touch, his smile fading at the edges.

 

                “You were the most beautiful thing I had ever laid my eyes upon, _still are_. And it was _Genji_ whom you chose to bond with.”

 

                Jesse’s heart clench. Right from the start…? Hanzo answered his question without it being spoken, his voice steady but the line around his eyes were showing, “The fall was gradual. It did not drive me mad with envy immediately, but it grew and fester with time. Why must Genji have everything? Why could he do what I couldn’t? Why did he take the one thing I truly wanted for myself away?”

 

                The hand had come to rest on his cheekbone, so sharp it could cut glass, and Hanzo leaned into it, the breath he exhaled was shuddering when Jesse’s thumb swiped under his eye, “The _miai_ …When Genji chased me outside, I knew you were there. I thought you would interfere. I _hoped_ you would. If you just said one word, I would have dropped _everything_. I would have run away with you. But you didn’t. You didn’t even step down when I hit him.”

 

                The words were more forced now, laden with emotions locked away for so long. Strong as Hanzo was, he was only mortal. And mortals could only hold on for so long. “My pride and anger would not allow me to see you after. I threw myself into plotting all these extravagant events, planning to display every and each moment of the _miai_ in front of you, in hope it would provoke a reaction. But nothing ever did. Seeing you agreeing to come with Genji so easily had been the last straw. And yet I was too much of a fool to open my mouth and ask.”

 

                “I had wanted to hurt both you and Genji that night. The two who were closest to me, because I was petty and I was envious.” Browns eyes were closed, his head fully leaned into Jesse’s hand. “Your charm’s activation broke all my resolve. I had never known something so beautiful could even get more tantalising and, by the Ancestors, all my hate was replaced with so much want that moment, it was unbelievable.”

 

                The small pang of relief was not enough to chase away the guilt that surfaced.

 

                “Your…departure was unbearable. I and my pride was wounded, and I lashed out like an animal. The pressure broke me even when I refused to admit it. Genji knew and he tried, but I beat him down and burned the last bridge.”

 

                The empty, self-loathing chuckle was a dagger to Jesse’s heart, stabbing and twisting until he was left raw, “All these years…He only slacked off and went against father’s will because he couldn’t stand to see me patronised for my weaknesses. My own brother stuck his neck out for me and I cut his throat. In my whirlwind of grief and anger, I could not see. Now I see why you favoured he more than I, and I humbly accept your decision. It is I whom have made so many mistakes and owe you all my apology. I have no right to claim your life nor do I have the right to demand anything of you.”

 

                His head was bowed, as if waiting for execution and Jesse’s teeth ground together, wishing he was somehow was as good of speech as he was good in battle. So he leaned over and kissed the creasing forehead instead. Kneeling before the shaman, he gathered both hands into his one, and tried so hard to convey his feelings into the next words he spoke.

 

                “Hanzo, I’d ne’er though of eit’er of y’ more than it was ‘propriate. Y’ were both so pure t’ me, so precious an’ somet’in’ I’d give me life to protect. Genji…Genji’d grown int’ a friend, someone I banter wit’ an’ share a coup’ o’ laughter over a drink. But y’…y’d always been untouchable.”

 

                The self-deprecating smile returned, but Jesse didn’t let him speak, “I ran ‘way ‘cause I thought it wasn’t me ya fell for. That it was me infernal charms that drew y’ in. I didn’t want that. Y’ deserved bet’er than false promises an’ lies, even though I’d no intention t’ trick y’. Me mind wasn’t in t’ best place. I was questionin’ meself. What all my purposes an’ actions had led t’ and if me existence had any meanin’ at all. Couldn’t get y’ out o’ my mind, no mat’er what I did. Convinced myself it was out o’ guilt when it was somet’in’ diff’rent.”

 

                A glimmer of hope danced in the depths of Hanzo’s eyes. Ducking, Jesse pressed a kiss to each wrist before continuing, “I hated myself f’ it. Horrified. Denyin’ that I wanna see y’ ‘cause I wanted t’. Even as I was comin’ back, I tried t’ convince myself that I only wanna see how y’ doin. That I wasn’t sad ‘bout y’ wantin’ t’ marry Mei.”

 

                Hanzo snorted despite the situation, and Jesse couldn’t help but grin at the budding smile, “You know she was a fox spirit, right?”

 

                “So someone’d told me.”

 

                They shared a laugh. The world was quiet, if just for a moment. Hanzo’s hand turned and gripped onto Jesse’s instead, “What does this make of us?”

 

                His voice had been hopeful, if not fearful, something Jesse had never thought he would hear. The vampire raised to his full height, a hand weaving into the nape of Hanzo’s now cropped hair, massaging the warm skin he found.

 

                “We walk t’gether an’ hope f’ the best.”

 

                The snort was louder, though muffled as it thumped onto Jesse’s abdomen. Strong, calloused hands coming up, gripping onto the vampire’s side tightly, as though it was a lifeline.

 

                There were still so many unfinished business, so many shadows that haunted them, with far too many regrets, but, somehow, Jesse knew that the road before them would be a little less painful. With dots of hope and a drop of salvaged happiness, perhaps, this time, all would finally be well for them.


	4. The Awakened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Jesse McCree's curious tale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, this will be the last flashback chapter I promise! We will get back on track next chapter and finally get some badass/hot action scenes going and possibly to an epic conclusion! *possibly*
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to [Qwerty224](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Qwerty224/pseuds/Qwerty224) for being such an amazing follower ; v; Thank you so much for your amazing support mah frand!!!
> 
> P/s: Enjoy the after credits.

* * *

 

                It would be a lie if Jesse said the following period of time wasn’t difficult.

 

                Hanzo was warned by Angela to not put too much strain on his legs anymore, as his ankles would not function the same after the incident. The shaman had been surprisingly acceptant of this, not a word of complaint, though Jesse had to remind him to take it easy sometimes. Even so, it was marginally better than how Genji coped. Or, rather, not coping at all.

 

                The younger Shimada brother had been destructive in his first few months. Jesse couldn’t blame him. Having one’s soul fused to an ancient set of armour would not be a preferable fate. Genji had been vicious with his words, uncharacteristic of him and uncaring that _Jesse_ was the one to request Angela for his _revival_ to begin with. The younger Shimada believed Jesse had only done so because of Hanzo. It only served to fuel Genji’s thunderous rage, something that Jesse had never expected the exuberant child he watched growing up was capable of.

 

                But Genji was only human after all. Even when his body was no longer flesh and blood.

 

                “How could you be so selfish?! You throw our life away, and now you make _him_ pay _your_ price?! Over _my_ life?!”

 

                The rest was lost in intelligible roaring. Even though Genji still had trouble controlling his new body, he had no trouble screaming out his fury and pain. Like a wounded beast, he holed up in his room and lashed out at everyone who dared coming near. Genji felt violated, rightfully so, having his fate decided for him, being stripped off his right to pass on, his consent overstepped and his feelings thrown aside.

 

                Jesse understood the feeling. He was once the same as the shaman. And he couldn’t tell Genji that the feeling would pass, because it wouldn’t. Like a particularly nasty battle wound, the skin would knit itself together, but the scar would forever be an aching reminder of what was lost and what was done. No, memories and emotions wouldn’t disappear, they could only morph into something else.

 

                Hanzo had not a word to say about this. Instead of avoiding his brother like he once had, the now head of the Shimada clan sought his brother out. To talk, he said. Genji turned his brother away with every attempt, each time his words were harsher than before. But Hanzo was resilient and stubborn all the same. He kept returning and always left with a bow. He would kneel outside Genji’s closed door for at least an hour a day, methodically and without fail, even when Genji had nothing but curses towards him. Even if he quivered in Jesse’s arms every night.

 

                Just as fierce as his anger, Genji’s quietness was sudden. Jesse feared for him. He watched with baited breath, figuratively, as Genji stepped outside of his quarters for the first time, beginning to get used to this new _vessel_ of his. The younger Shimada brother didn’t speak to anyone still, only a stilted nod of acknowledgement every once in a while. Being a spirit, he needed no sustenance. Nor did he need any connection, a small voice in his head told Jesse. But he watched on, following Genji around when he could, because Hanzo’s presence wasn’t allowed, and because Jesse still genuinely cared for Genji as a friend. Family, almost, but that held no meaning to the young shaman any longer.

 

                Another change was coming, Jesse could feel it in the air, as the cherry blossoms shifted and another year drifted by. It was to be expected and he humbly awaited it, a solid presence by Hanzo’s side. But no matter the support, it was still difficult to bear, the day when Genji came before them both.

 

                “I must depart.”

 

                It was simple. No spoken explanation because it was clear. It wasn’t a request either. Genji was a dead man and the dead walked without being bound to the living’s rules. It was inevitable.

 

                No promise was made. Genji left. It was simple as that. And it killed Hanzo. He dealt with it stoically, silently just as he had before. But Jesse knew better this time.

 

                “Y’ said it before. It ain’t good t’ let it fester.” He said one day, sitting down beside the shaman under the blooming canopy. Hanzo had been drinking more recently. Perhaps a little too much.

 

                Silence was cold, a leaf of ice slicing between the lungs, painful and unwelcomed. Hanzo did not move, but Jesse inched closer, legs bracing on either side of the shaman and pulled stiffened back against his chest. As if his strings were cut, Hanzo slumped against the vampire, fingers loosening around his sakazuki, heedless of the spilt sake. He was sober, but his eyes were glazed as they stared up mutely at the moon. Neither spoke a word. Jesse’s hand, his _only_ hand, wound up and placed palm-flat against the steady rhythm of Hanzo’s heart. Unmarred skin was smooth underneath the vampire’s fingertips, warm and thrumming with life. His breaths came out soft between parted lips, rosy and thick with the wine’s nectar.

 

                That night would be their first time together. Quiet and gentle just like the sadness lingering over Hanamura. It would also mark the first time Jesse had a taste of human blood, after over a decade. He blanched at first, cautiously licking away the dripping droplets, seeping through the punctured scratch on Hanzo’s chest. Though it wasn’t the taste that deterred Jesse. It was the fear of giving into instinct, to turn into the chained beast he once was. To accidentally take Hanzo’s life in his bloodlust. To break him in accident. Yet the shaman was so lively under him, writhing and flustered, all solid strength and grace. The scent of his blood called out to Jesse, mystical and enthralling like a siren song. Perhaps it was the coiling powers in his veins. Perhaps it was the man himself. Either way…Jesse couldn’t help but dive back in for a second. And a third.

 

                And more. And _more_.

 

                Jesse McCree was addicted before he could stop himself. Not only to the blood but to the man beside him, in every inch of inked flesh, in every quivering gasp, in every touch that could be as firm as the earth beneath them or fleeting as a windswept petal.

 

                The vampire was conflicted. This wasn’t the first time such an irony beheld his existence. However, it was also what he hated most about himself. About _Overwatch_. But this, he told himself, _this_ was real. It wasn’t something stolen or taken by force. The flower might have bloomed late, but it blossomed for _him_ and him alone.

 

                Briefly, Jesse wondered if he would ever settle the score with Jack Morrison one day. But he was no longer as bothered about this thought as before. It was liberating. Despite still being a bump somewhere in his mind, hatred and anger hadn’t a hold over Jesse, they were not his drive anymore. There was someone else now, someone whose stalwart presence anchored his reality, whose body he embraced at night. Happiness was a flickering thing, even if it was not whole for them both, Jesse knew better and he held onto it with all his might.

 

                He and Morrison had an eternity to pluck the crow. Hanzo did not.

 

                As much as he avoided thinking about it, Jesse was afraid. Time had never been on his side in spite of granting him so much of it. A vampire’s time wasn’t a thing to be shared or given, it was a heavy, unfair bargain that always left someone reeling. It wasn’t a fate he would wish upon anyone. And he was sure Hanzo would never agree to it.

 

                 Still, the thought entertained Jesse during sleepless nights, with Hanzo’s even breaths fluttering over his shoulder and a constant warmth pressing to his cold skin. Anxiety crawled in his dead veins, stirring up issues he would rather not think about. Unavoidable difficulties. Emotional burdens. They had strange ways, worming themselves into one’s heart at most unfortunate times. It was around then did McCree realise he was still human in that regard. He wasn’t immune to all internal turmoil, had never been freed from its grasp. It was both relieving and troublesome.

 

                Out of everything, Hanamura’s rebuilding had been swift and without a hitch. The repair job was impeccable and Jesse found himself welcoming the daily labours, if only to keep his mind from wandering. The vampire never tired out, especially with Hanzo’s power-fuelled blood running within him, so he worked triple the load of a normal person would and generally kept everything in line so the shaman could deal with political matters in peace. As the only available member of the Shimada clan, the only one _alive_ that was, Hanzo was pressurised in every which way. And yet he took everything in stride.

 

                “My family have been keeping Japan safe for thousands of years from supernatural threats. I do not see why we must withhold the tradition.” Hanzo had told him one day, after a heated debate with a messenger from the Emperor. Heated because Hanzo’s tone was clipped and more formal than usual, but barely above a whisper. His stillness did not betray even a flicker of emotion, but the raw power in his statue rolled off in waves, enough to make the messenger sweat in his layered robes.

 

                Jesse couldn’t be more proud. Hanzo embraced his role wholly despite the mess and the sorrow, all the while slowly learning to let Jesse in on his hidden emotions, when there were just the two of them. The gesture humbled Jesse greatly and the longer they spent together, the more his appreciation grew for Hanzo. It pushed Jesse into bettering himself as well, offering support instead of simply standing on the side line as before. He was a little more cautious, a little more protective and, even though Hanzo was fully capable of handling himself, became the shaman most loyal guardian.

 

                Yet another irony in Jesse’s book.

 

                The distractions served well to keep their minds off Genji, of which Hanzo was too stubborn to admit and Jesse didn’t want to upset his lover by bringing the topic up. Even after the Shimada Castle was rebuilt, there were plenty of nagging affairs to tend to.

 

                The flames and attack had claimed many of the clan’s best fighters, well-trained shamans and warriors fell that day. It would take time to produce yet another generation and Hanamura would be left utterly vulnerable during that period. The Shimada clan’s purpose wasn’t to combat any ordinary menace and while they were dealing with the aftermath, many _oni_ and spirits were left to freely terrorise the land. Recruitment was slow and, more often than not, Jesse found himself separated from his beloved, sent off to take care of some particularly nasty _issues_. See, physical entities and brute strength, he could deal with. Incorporeal, ghostly bullshit was an entirely different idea. He had picked up a thing or two all those years watching over the Shimada brothers, but actually taking it to his own hands could be quite challenging. But with the devastating lack resources, Jesse could not simply stay idled. He needed to adapt to the situation and help whenever he could.

 

                And Angela didn’t have enough charity in her to lend a hand.

 

                The sylvan elf had departed as soon as Hanzo was back in working order, thanking Jesse for the chance to do some right in the world. Questionable antics, since she could have left the New World whenever she wanted on her own. But Jesse wasn’t too bothered. She aided what she could, at the price of his hand, and for that he was thankful. McCree prided himself on being resourceful, he wasn’t going to rely on a friend as long as he still had strength left in his body.

 

                Though _a wee bit of help_ would be appreciated right about then.

 

                _Nukekubi_ was one of the most dreadful creatures Jesse had to face so far. Another vampiric being essentially, a detached, floating head that was far more vicious than a rabid beast. It would have been so much easier if the real vessel of the head was just as purely evil…No. It had to be a fucking curse. The creature was still human somewhere, laying headless, and if Jesse managed to find the body, he could still save this young woman from a terrible fate. The floating monstrous head definitely didn’t make the job easier for him though. She would have been real pretty without those gnashing teeth trying to take a chomp at his face. Getting pissed off because Jesse’s enhanced speed eluded her every attack, the nukekubi began lashing out at everything around it, leaving deep grooves on the paved stone road and nearby walls. Jesse cursed under his breath. Should have lured her somewhere else. But it was dark out and with rumours of this demon lurking around, no one was willing to roam the streets at this hour. Plus, the infernal noises they were making would no doubt scare everyone into further hiding, so Jesse wasn’t entirely concerned. The worst that could happen would probably be Hanzo nagging him about collateral damage.

 

                Damn it, Jesse hated how far away from home he was.

 

                He came to this fight unprepared, too eager to get it done without planning out his moves. Without much of a choice, Jesse would have to stall out until dawn and follow the head back to wherever its body was. Sentimental and a waste of time, perhaps, but there was no need for unnecessary bloodshed.

 

                That was to say, McCree didn’t expect something wet, sloppy and smelt of _death_ whirling pass him after a narrow dodge, flying straight into the nukekubi’s maws.

 

                McCree no longer paid attention to the creature he was fighting, not even when it wailed and disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Because that scent of _sunshine_ _and honey_ was difficult to miss.

 

                “Morrison.” He snarled, pistol out of holster faster than the eye could catch, pointing straight at the other vampire’s impeccable breast pocket. Morrison was just as Jesse remembered him, with clothes cut so precisely they embraced every well-defined planes like a second skin. Golden tuffs framed his perfectly square jaws, cornflower blue eyes bright upon flawless skin, with his matching coat that fluttered far too effortlessly about tantalising body to be real. Arms crossed behind straight back, only serving to accentuate broad chest.

 

                Sunlit head tipped, stiffening every muscle in McCree’s being.

 

                “To get rid of a nukekubi and lift the curse, simply feed it the liver of a white dog.” Smooth, rumbling voice was fine like aged whiskey, spiking down his spine alarmingly. Jesse held his gun steady, fangs beginning to show. Damn, he wished he had had the chance to clamp down a cigar before all of this shit.

 

                “What? Ruinin’ people’s lives ain’t ‘nough, now y’ gotta kill puppies too? And who th’ fuck told y’ that?!” He went for a taunt, but his uneasiness showed in the end. Morrison’s sheer presence was unnerving and McCree _hated_ that he had to admit it.

 

                “Your mate did.”

 

                The gunshots were instant, accompanying by a feral roaring.

 

                Morrison didn’t even twitch from his spot. A glove-clad hand waved up, brushing the bullets away almost lazily. He could have taken them all right in his heart without breaking a sweat, Jesse knew from experience. The bastard only deflected them because he hated having his clothes ruined. But McCree didn’t give Morrison time to stroke his inflated ego. He charged right in after the shots, his fist met the elder vampire’s faultless face with a resounding crack.

 

                Morrison’s face flipped to the side at the blunt force. McCree swore. His hand was completely _shattered_ , while the hellish bastard only had a crooked nose.

 

                _Fuck_.

 

                “I hope you feel better.” Morrison regarded him calmly, nose already shifted to right itself, which only grated his nerves further, “Shimada-san is fine. He would like you at Hanamura as soon as possible.”

 

                The relief over Hanzo’s safety, though sceptical because it came out of Morrison’s mouth, wasn’t enough to burn away the fury and embarrassment. However, as much as Jesse wanted to deny it, there was a sliver of fear as well.

 

                Just exactly how powerful was Jack Morrison?

 

                Being fuelled with shamanic blood, McCree’s strike could have levelled a pillar of solid granite. He knew. He tried. And Morrison took all his strength, fanned up with pent-up rage, without even flinching.

 

                “We’ll sort shit out. Right here. Right now.” Jesse slowly picked himself up, his broken hand started setting itself. Morrison was impassive.

 

                “I did promise you for a chance of vengeance.” His nod was crisp, without emotion. It was unfitting, eerie and _right_ somehow all the same. Morrison probably expected more rage. But McCree was no longer a child. There was no shame in a tactical retreat, especially when he knew there was no chance of winning. But where could he run if Morrison was truly out for his head?

 

                “What y’ doin’ here?” Jesse’s voice came out gruff, but calmer, anger subsiding for alarm. There was a raised eyebrow, the first reaction he had drawn out from the vampire. Just as predicted. Good. Keeping surprise on his side.

 

                The answer came after a moment, with just a drop of cautiousness that Jesse almost missed, “I heard of the incident at Hanamura. I thought perhaps you all could use some help.”

 

                Whatever Morrison was doing puzzled him, and McCree didn’t like this feeling of uncertainty one bit.

 

                “Y’d be a year late.” He couldn’t keep the snide out of his tone. Morrison truly had a high opinion of himself. The slight dip of his head only served to aggravate McCree further.

 

                “Well, I do suppose better late than never?” The words were intended to be jovial, McCree could hear it in Morrison’s voice, but the line of his lips were strained, “How have you been, Jesse?”

 

                Anger returned in a white searing flash, sharp teeth grounded together in an attempt to not pounce and strangle this son of a bitch. His healed hand shook in a tight furl against his side, hyperaware of Morrison’s eyes on him. A snap bubbled up in his chest, pulling at old resentments and life-long bitterness. The younger McCree would have jumped at the chance to attack. The younger McCree would have leapt at Morrison with bared fangs and lashing claws.

 

                But Morrison obviously wasn’t here for a fight. And Jesse had wised up enough to not give into instinct where it had failed. Fury was replaced with a jaded feeling, something that he hadn’t had for a long time.

                “Good ‘nough.” He answered curtly, reluctantly, sharp gaze watching every possible movement. He didn’t elaborate, but neither did Morrison demand him to.

 

                “I am glad, then.” There was sincerity in the elder vampire’s voice, something Jesse did not expect yet wasn’t surprised about, “I am truly glad it worked out for you.”

 

                The silence was strained. Jesse did his best to not fidget, anticipating a sign of treachery. There was none and Morrison was as still as a statue, yielding McCree the next move. It was one of those freak incidents that left him caught between a reeling rage and hysterical laughing. But Jesse did neither. He held his ground in silence, finding it slightly ridiculous. But he didn’t trust Morrison, not when he had so much to lose.

 

                “Why’re y’ _really_ here?”

 

                “To help.” Morrison repeated, adamantly, patiently, “As the Shimada clan have always offered aid to myself, I am here to offer the same in their time of need.”

 

                The calm response was a bolt of lightning to Jesse’s chest.

 

                However, for the time he had stayed with the Shimada, he knew close to nothing about their dealings. Political issues and contracts were never Jesse’s things. Having his mind set on leaving from the get-go, he never knew why Hanzo’s predecessor accepted him from Morrison either. In his unpreparedness, McCree didn’t seem as changed or smarter as he thought he was.

 

                “Y’ will _not_ take this from me, Morrison.” It was barely above a whisper, quiet so the elder vampire couldn’t hear the inevitable, shivering rage. Cornflower blue eyes turned sad.

 

                “You have my word.”

 

                “Y’ word don’t mean shit, Morrison.” Jesse spat. Morrison was unwavering.

               

                “I am here, am I not?”

 

                It stumped Jesse for a brief second, but Morrison neither mocked him nor laughed. The steady indulgence vexed Jesse’ fraying nerves. “Don’t mean a shit eit’er. Not when y’ immortal. There ain’t shit I can do t’ kill y’.”

 

                Blue eyes darkened. The dingy alley they stood in suddenly dropped drastically in temperature. But the reaction was gone just as quickly as it came. McCree was glad he no longer produced sweat.

 

                “There is no such thing as true immortality.”

 

                So, perishable after all. The question was _how_.

 

                The journey back to Hanamura was swift and without word. Jesse had wanted to drag it out, but he would rather arrive quicker and with Morrison rather than giving the bastard time alone with Hanzo. Which he already unwittingly did because of this stupid mission.

 

                Jesse half expected his home to be in the destructed state he had once seen it in. Expected to unable to find Hanzo in the sea of flames. But Hanamura was just as peaceful as he left it, drowsy in the grey before dawn. A knot unravelled in his chest, seeing Hanzo at the archery ring in his simpler hakama. The shaman did not acknowledge them immediately, finishing his morning ritual unhurriedly before handing his bow to the attending servant. Making Morrison, possibly the most powerful creature in a thousand mile radius, wait. Badass without trying.

 

                Jesse couldn’t love the man more at that very moment. His grin might have been a little too wide, a little too wolfish, but Hanzo didn’t even bat an eyelash when Jesse took his usual place by the shaman’s side. There was no physical contact, no subtle brush of the hand, not even a glint in deep hazel eyes. Not in front of such a dangerous, potential ally. Hanzo’s mask was every inch in place and Jesse effortlessly slipped into the role of his bumbling, seemingly oblivious guardsman. Might not have worked with Morrison, but it was damn impressive, if Jesse had to say so himself. Plus, the shaman’s sheer presence calmed his nerves greatly.

 

                “Mister Morrison.” Hanzo’s bow was polite and crisp, similar to Morrison’s own, all formal and business, “An honour to welcome you in Hanamura once more.”

 

                “The pleasure is all mine.” The blonde vampire’s voice was just as smooth, lacking the sultry tone Jesse associated him with in past experiences.

 

                It was obvious that Hanzo was taking his time out of spite. Just as McCree knew almost everything about Hanzo’s upbringing, the shaman _demanded_ to know about the vampire’s life, too. It interested Jesse greatly, because that feisty, spoiled young master that he knew still lived somewhere underneath all the burden Hanzo bore. In a way, it was relieving in its familiarity.

 

                Morrison was patient as a rock, not once giving any indication that his time was being wasted through the tea ceremony that was absolutely useless for his _diet_. The elder vampire played the part of an entertained guest exceptionally well, drinking tea and sampling namagashi as if he was human and those normal, delectable treats didn’t taste like ash to him. The level of control was remarkable without one hint of being taunting and it got Jesse worried, even if just a tiny bit, that Hanzo was gambling too much over this.

 

                Underneath that serene façade of a good host, Jesse knew his lover was secretly fuming. Amused, he bit back a chuckle. Spoiled rotten, but ever so gracious in his affectionate gestures, even though they were sometimes questionable. Still, Jesse let the ceremony carried out without interruption and, once it was finally over, the barest shift of his posture was enough to signal Hanzo. The shaman was displeased, but made no other move to stall the following conversation.

 

                Jesse was surprised to see it moved along much smoother than any missive Hanzo had gotten from other Lords or the Emperor. There was no dancing around the matter, no needless negotiation.

 

                “I am here to pledge my alliance to you, _Shimada Hanzosama_ , as your father and those before him had extended their goodwill towards myself.” Morrison’s kneel was perfection, squared knees, braced arms, hunched shoulders and humbled bow. Jesse quirked up an eyebrow. This certainly wasn’t something he would expect to see.

 

                Hanzo gave a long pause. The shaman could be quite petty, if his competitive streak with his brother before was of any evidence. However, Jesse found himself to be less worried and angry than before, simply curious of what had created this deal to begin with.

 

                “By the blood that runs in my veins, the same blood of my father and those before him, I hereby honour this allegiance with the family’s name.”

 

                It was an interesting take. Jesse could tell, by Morrison’s slightly raised eyebrow. But a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, charming and amused. His posture relaxed, ever so slightly, and he nodded at Hanzo, his tone losing its stiffness.

 

                “It is good to see you again. Both of you.” There was sincerity in Morrison’s voice. Something that Jesse was less hesitant to take, yet it was still a different concept to wrap his mind around. Wisely, he didn’t mention Genji. Fucker probably already knew what happened. Neither Jesse wanted to open that can nor was he eager to break this fragile peace.

 

Honestly, Jesse was slighted more than anything else, now that other emotions had subsided enough to truly think about the situation. Why hadn’t Hanzo told him of this… _family tradition_ before? Given Morrison’s association with Overwatch, there could possibly be some infernal secrecy involved. It was difficult to think of Hanzo or his family as nefarious, but Jesse was smarter than that. He might know what he had seen, but there was centuries-worth of history that he had no idea about.

 

                The briefest cloud passed Hanzo’s brows and smoothed out immediately as if it was never there, “Your arrivals have always been unexpected, as far as I know. Not even the flames can predict your path.”

 

                Morrison’s smile was indulgent, “For someone like me, it is easier travelling incognito.”

 

                “Indeed.” Hanzo’s lips were a thin line. The gap was awkward. The shaman seemed unwilling to initiate further conversation. Jesse even less. But Morrison wasn’t wavered.

 

                “Where are my manners? I did not come empty-handed.” His chuckle was airy, a hand placed down on the tatami mat where his shadow began. With eyebrows creeping up to the hairline, Jesse watched in fascinated horror as something started forming as Morrison’s fingers lifted. Hanzo was unfazed outwardly, but Jesse’s ears could perfectly detect his quickened heartbeats.

 

                The thing Morrison _brought_ was a smooth, perfectly crafted and polished box, solid ebony without any marking. The vampire did not open his gift, but slid it across the small distance between them with both hands. A show of respect and reassurance. While neither Jesse nor Hanzo was easy to kill, Morrison was a completely different issues. However, Jesse was surprised to see the box pushed towards his direction. This had been quite an interesting turn of event. Obviously sceptic, but he didn’t want to be viewed lesser, especially when the other two in the room had been quietly radiating powers in waves, Jesse lifted the lid without further ado.

 

                Sitting there, staring down at the gleaming metal clad in crimson fabric, the vampire was dumbstruck.

 

                He half wanted to fling the _prosthetic arm_ at Morrison’s perfect face. The other half was just at a loss of what to do. This wasn’t anything ordinary. The steel was so clear he could see his own reflection in it, laying in a contrast against its bedding. Every knuckle was finely assembled with flexible joints. Even the wrist and the forearm was layered with plating, no doubt to provide best mimicked movements as possible. If it wasn’t for the extra parts and material, this could be easily passed as a real hand.

 

                There wasn’t a need to make a fool of himself. Jesse didn’t touch the arm. He didn’t know what he _should_ do.

 

                “This don’t change what happened.”

 

                “No, it doesn’t.” Morrison agreed, “What I owe you cannot be mended with just one act. Thus you shouldn’t have any restrain against taking anything from me.”

 

                The indent on the tatami mat flinched neither Morrison nor Hanzo, “I will _not_ take charity from y’!!! Especially from _y’_!”

 

                He left, because staying would only result in even more conflict and destruction. Hanzo didn’t stop him.

 

                Morrison departed only a few hours afterwards. McCree didn’t see him off, but he could feel the oppressive presence retreating in the air. Hanzo didn’t come find him until late that night, bringing sake and two sakazuki, even though Jesse never drank.

 

                “Y’ never told me why yer fam’ly got tangled wit’ him.”

 

                The silence was disturbed only by the soft pouring, the distinct fragrance of the shaman’s favourite alcohol filled the air between them. Hanzo placed the flat dish before Jesse before sitting down more comfortably, shoulder to shoulder on the open porch. The warmth did little to comfort his churning emotions, yet Jesse leaned into it anyway.

 

                “You probably have guessed it, most of this happened before I was born.” The man’s tone was moderate, but not tactful nor did he try to draw out time, “John Morrison was the founder of Overwatch.”

 

                …Goddamn it, he really wished people would stop dropping ground-shattering facts on him today. If Hanzo felt Jesse’s muscles stiffened against him, there was no remark. The shaman simply carried on, as if they were discussing the weather, “On his many trips to establish the organization’s connections, he came to Japan. Our clan was, and still is, protecting the land, has done so for thousands of years before Overwatch came to be. As his request to extend Overwatch here was refused, Morrison offered an allegiance instead. The clan did not see the use of a foreigner, so far away and seemingly useless to the threats that they faced every day. We gained no benefit from trading routes either and Overwatch was not selling any desirable service.”

 

                “It got complicated from there.” Hanzo took the first sip of his sake, a pinch on his eyebrows as he shifted to lean onto Jesse a little more, “As transportation means grew with time, we continuously received unwanted attention from the world. Shimada clan is powerful, but we can do without the extra burdens. Overwatch would keep the outlandish threats away from us, whilst we would grant them favours per workload they took off our hands.”

 

                “Seems like a good deal t’ me.” Jesse mumbled, arm circling around his mate, rubbing at the prominent muscles through rustling fabric. Hanzo snorted. Of course it wasn’t that easy.

 

                “Morrison disappeared before much work was done. Virtually no-one knew about his dealing with the family. No work was done. We thought the contract was void. We lost nothing but our time and perhaps very little effort. It carried on for another century. And then, just like that.” He snapped his fingers in a dry, harsh sound to emphasis, “All the harassments at our borders vanished. As if a great tide came and swiped them off existence.”

 

                “Morrison.” The name tasted like a curse on his tongue, bitter and venomous. Hanzo nodded against Jesse’s shoulder.

 

                “We had our suspicions, but he never appeared until another five decades. Only to apologise and reassure that the contract still stood, despite that his part was late. We knew he wasn’t human.” That was, perhaps, _excessive_ , “We thought Overwatch was still involved somehow, as reports showed that the organization was expanding rapidly in territory. But Morrison, for the few times he graced us with his presence, was alone.” There was a drop of sarcasm in Hanzo’s voice, invoking a slight smile to Jesse’s lips.

 

                “The first favour was odd. He wished to learn the art of meditation. True to our words, the Shimada only provided the best. Morrison wasn’t seen for another century afterwards, but our borders were completely free from foreign assaults.” This time, there was a smirk in the shaman’s voice, “The records could be puzzling in terms of expression, but my ancestors were almost indefinitely sweating themselves to half-dead, because in their point of view, they were owing Morrison far too much to turn down anything he asked for.”

 

                And that would be why one shouldn’t deal with a vampire. But Jesse didn’t interrupt his mate. He regretted that he didn’t.

 

                “The second time, well, technically it was only a missive. It caused a lot of arguments among the house members.” Hanzo’s voice was still monotonous, but his subtle movements wasn’t lost to Jesse, “Morrison’s demand was finally met and he arrived, just a few months later. With you.”

 

                If the earth opened up beneath him and swallowed him whole, Jesse wouldn’t have noticed. It was too little, yet too overwhelming at the same time. Part of him wanted to yell, to demand if there was more, because Morrison wouldn’t have done anything without an ulterior motive. However, the rational side of him, that annoying voice of reason that he would like nothing better to smother in a pile of horse manure, told him that if the last twenty-four hour wasn’t of any evidence, then he knew about Morrison just as much as he knew the Antarctica.

 

                His hand retreated from Hanzo’s body, cradling his face in roughened palm, heaving out breaths that he no longer needed. Nevertheless, he could feel the shaman’s gaze upon him. Jesse’s chuckle was wilting, might have crackled slightly around the edges and all around tired, “Y’ ‘posed t’ be on my side.”

 

                A hand gingerly found itself on his knee, Hanzo leaning impossible close, his own even inhales and exhales fanned gently on Jesse’s scruffy face, “Do not speak of such folly.” The shaman scoffed, “I am and forever will be on your side.”

 

                It was touching and it was grounding. His sigh was shuddering and it took him every ounce of strength to look up at Hanzo’s concerning eyes. The shaman’s hand cupped his own, brushing circles into his skin.

 

                They let silence stretch, pregnant with uncertainty in Jesse’s part and solidary understanding in Hanzo’s. Nothing but the rustling leaves above them and the distant singing cicadas disrupted the temporal peace.

 

                “What sh’ I do?” Jesse yielded in the end, slumping forward and rested his forehead on the crook of Hanzo’s shoulder, “Ev’rythin’ don’t feel right.”

 

                He was tired. Tired of hating, tired of fearing _this_ , everything that was _good and beautiful_ that was finally given to _him_ , would be taken away. He was tired of that shred of negativity, of the chokehold it had on his heart. Of not being able to feel full and content, no matter what he did. Tired of an age old shadow that he never understood, that storm cloud that always rumbled in the corner of his mind, threatening him.

 

                Hanzo’s hand in his wild tuffs of hair was a solid reminder of what he had lost, _could have_ lost. Jesse didn’t know if he could survive going through the same shit again.

 

                “You let it fester for too long, my love.” Hanzo’s whispered word froze every muscle in his body, “It has become part of you. Without it, you will not be whole. But you, _we_ have time. And, with time, what was broken can be mended. It will not be the same, nor can I promise you that darkness will not visit you again. However, for as long as I still draw breaths, I will make it better, just as you have done so for me.”

 

                Despite all the abuses, all those years of pain, regrets, anger and fear that violently and repeatedly beat him down, Jesse had always returned with renewed stoicism and that ever-present grin, a mask to mock Fate. None of them, not even Morrison, had managed to break him. But those words, so gentle and kind, burst a dam within Jesse McCree.

 

                He emptied his heart and emptied his mind, until sorrow was an echo of a dream and memories faded into scars.

 

                Jack Morrison visited twice more since that day. Once to help attaching the arm and the other to finally speak with Jesse. Even though quite begrudgingly, the cowboy had to admit the prosthetic was something out of this world. It functioned just as well as his hand once did, minus the sensations, and was a perfect match for his supernatural strength. Of course, Jesse had to question where Morrison had procured such an invention, to which the elder vampire smiled.

 

                “A sylvan elf and her iron dwarf friend.”

 

                _Ah_.

 

                Things between the two of them had been…pleasant. Without the charms and Overwatch’s order, Morrison wasn’t too bad to speak to. The past still stood, and it would never disappear, they both knew this. There was awkwardness, but there was also peace, in knowing that he wasn’t just a toy, a spare bone to be thrown away. It would take some time to get used to the more cheerful stuff or even the idea of _what_ Morrison had saved him from. That it was _Morrison_ who brought him to Hanzo. That, perhaps, this happiness granted to Jesse started with Morrison.

 

                Life was a strange journey. Even though his heart no longer beat, it took him to places he never knew he could go.

 

                It would take time to get used to, to accept this firm handshake and the sincere apology. But, for now, Jesse was content to let go of this darkness and step into the light of the presence. And might just feel a little smug, when Jack halted his steps before walking away, giving Jesse and Hanzo a longing, slightly envious look.

 

                “One day, I hope I shall find someone just as important to myself and I to that one, like the two of you together.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                “G’damnit! ‘Course Jack’s t’ land someone so hot he’d make a preacher cuss! Fuc’er’s grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater!”

 

                “Jesse…Please stop.”


	5. Integrity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back on track again! I am SO sorry for the long wait! I hope this chapter will make up for my absence and you all will enjoy this!
> 
> Warning: Heavy smut ahead :3

 

* * *

 

               “Are you alright?”

 

                Gabriel let out an exasperated, huffing chuckle at the question. The slide of skin against his was simply delicious, every pull of taunt muscles was aimed to please. Knees braced around his hips, shaking with wantonly want, nails scrabbling against his shoulders in an attempt to hold back. Jac rode him leisurely, gentle and unhurried even though his entire body was quivering with anticipation. Amidst the pleasure, anxiety also seeped through the sheen of well-woven sunshine and honey. It drew out a growl from the pit of Gabriel’s stomach and he latched his teeth onto Jack’s chest.

 

                “You need to stop thinking.” The Hunter groused, licking up a trail to Jack’s collarbone. The vampire shuddered under his touch, his body tightening but his pace was undisturbed.

 

                Stubborn little shit. Despite being antsy as fuck about what was about to happen, Jack was determined to make this as good as he could for Gabriel.

 

                Jack was afraid, Gabriel could tell. Excited, but afraid nonetheless. Sex wasn’t just a distraction for Gabriel, it was for Jack as well. The Hunter could see conflicting emotions battling in his mate’s too-blue eyes. Waiting for Gabriel to call it off. Wanting for Gabriel to go through with it. Fearing that Gabriel would hate him afterwards.

 

                Gabriel had to admit, he would be lying if he said he didn’t have second thoughts about this whole ordeal. Given his history, turning into a creature of the night was seemingly an unthinkable decision. He had dealt with enough vampires in his lifetime to know what he was getting himself into. He knew what this meant, cutting off Jack’s one consensual source of blood. For now, the collective residents at the Shimada Castle was willing to help them on that forte. But a more permanent solution must be found. At least for Jack.

 

                However, even with all the presenting issues, Gabriel understood all the consequences and he chose to accept it. Becoming a vampire wasn’t as bothersome of an idea as it should have been. It was something that he has come to peace with. Human or vampire were not all the same, but it didn’t mean one could clearly divide them into good and evil. Knowing Jack, despite all the things he had done with Overwatch, Gabriel couldn’t say his mate was any more beastly than himself. And then there was Jesse McCree, who didn’t possess a single mean bone in his body. Vampire’s reputation was nefarious, but some humans weren’t any better. His grip tightened on Jack’s flexing hips, a spike of anger entering his mind upon the thought of Satya Vaswani.

 

                Jack wasn’t as flawless as one might think. There were scars, not upon his pale skin but deep within his heart. That night, after the encounter with the nure onna, they barely scratched the surface of what happened. Jack had skipped all the details, knowing full-well they would only further deepen his mate’s hatred.

 

                Gabriel wasn’t stupid. He knew Jack had a certain attachment with Overwatch, something that Gabriel was dying to uproot and burn away like the festering clump of tumour it was. Overwatch was, after all, Jack’s creation and sacrifices, all bundled up and grown into an abomination. Still, he loved it the same. Something complicated, like a parent to a child, a tangling mess of loyalty, pain and disappointment all blended into a sinister concoction that poisoned his mind over the years. Guilt also played a crucial part in this, carved out from the loss of his sister, his own mistakes and whatever shredded sense of logical conviction Jack still had left towards the organization.

 

                More than anyone else, Jack knew how extensive corruption ran within Overwatch. How the current and past leaders were using it as a mean to pursue their own fanatical ideals. And yet he argued that it was a necessity. Because the supernatural world could not and should not be left unsupervised. Humanity would be destroyed within a matter of days. However, complete annihilation of non-human community was uncalled for.

 

                Overwatch needed to be either destroyed or rebuilt from the ground up. They had crossed far too many lines they should have stayed far, far away from.

 

                Gabriel’s drive wasn’t noble. He did what needid to be done. It as his job, what he was adamant on doing since day one. There wouldn’t be any remorse over something so spoiled and rotten. This cemented his decision, but perhaps even then it still sounded rather self-righteous.

 

                “Who is thinking too much now?” Jack’s whisper drew him back to the present, to the beautiful creature writhing in his lap. Gabriel rumbled in his chest, raking nails down Jack’s unmarred back, grinning at the hiss against his neck.

 

                “The mind is a distracting place.” He admitted, angling his hips up to meet with Jack’s steady bounces. Gasping, Jack threaded a hand through the hair at Gabriel’s nape, tipping the Hunter’s head back so they could slot their mouths messily together. The kiss was slow, burning and slick with strokes of tongues. Jack’s fangs nipped and pulled at Gabriel’s bottom lip until a sliver of blood trickled out. He lapped at the coppery liquid, deliberately and almost timidly. The Hunter sucked his mate’s tongue in, letting the vampire tickle the roof of his mouth, lazily kneading Jack’s ass with his rough palms.

 

                Pulling away once Gabriel was out of breath, Jack turned to nose and kiss along his mate’s jawline, “Now isn’t that better? Putting your mind and mouth to something more useful.”

 

                Gabriel’s chuckles rolled in his chest, vibrating against Jack in a way that made the vampire shiver. A thick finger slipped between already stretched mounts, nudging them apart further and teasing the rim that wrapped snuggly around his cock. Jack’s breath hitched with a curse, a whine bubbling up in his throat even though he stubbornly kept his pace fixed. Gabriel ducked his head, biting down on the milky shoulder before him, not enough to break skin, not yet, but enough for Jack to feel the unspoken promises behind it. Another finger joined the fist, nails scratching and pulling slightly at the taunt flesh.

 

                Jack’s resolves were fraying. Gabriel could feel it in every tremble, in the grip that was becoming bruising and gnashing teeth a hair away from biting into him.

 

                “Only for you, sunshine.” Gabriel purred, stroking a line from where they were joined up the vampire’s trembling spine. Jack’s moan was broken, carelessly throwing his arms around his mate’s neck and burying his face into Gabriel’s hair. Crossing his arms around the small of Jack’s back, grabbing handfuls of the vampire’s ass, Gabriel picked up his thrusts relentlessly, grating out delicious, keening noises from his mate.

 

                And yet, it wasn’t enough.

 

                They had talked about this. Several times. It got emotional, because Jack, or at least part of him, didn’t believe that someone was willing to do this for him. Couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that yes, he deserved this one chunk of happiness. That Gabriel would follow him till the end of time.

 

                Gabriel knew that Jack wanted to be convinced that Gabriel just craved for the power to bring down Overwatch, a personal vendetta. Quite insulting, but it wasn’t what Gabriel was most irked about. The fact that Jack was fine with the prospect of being used hurt. Overwatch had used him like an object for so long, he thought that if he had no use to Gabriel, he would no longer be needed.

 

                For such a powerful creature, the poor thing could be so incredibly insecure.

 

                Gabriel trapped Jack impossibly close, turning so he could properly kiss his vampire.

 

                “I’m not going anywhere.” He murmured into Jack’s swollen lips, humming when he felt long fingers tracing his chin, gentle and almost reverent. Gabriel slowed to a stop despite Jack’s whining protest, and nuzzled into his mate’s golden hair. Caressing hand cupped the Hunter’s cheek, just as Gabriel rubbed soothing circles into Jack’s skin.

 

                 Above all, Jack didn’t want Gabriel to hate himself for this decision, to look back and wish everything was different. He was willing to suffer for eternity if it meant sparing Gabriel from having to make a choice that he might regret.

 

                Self-sacrificing, goat-headed moron…

 

                Silence was not entirely unwelcomed, even in their current position. Jack nestled against Gabriel, tracing along the Hunter’s features with cooling fingertips.

 

                “Why me?”

 

                “Hm?”

 

                “You could have had anyone else. With your former position. With how you look. You hated me. You hated what I am. So why me? Why doing this?”

 

                Gabriel felt rather than heard the words, puffs of air fanning against his skin. Not for the first time, it occurred to Gabriel just how scared Jack was. How a supposedly powerful, fearless and egotistical creature needed so much reassurance from him, a mere mortal, was ironic. But Jack wore a mask for the world to see, something expected of someone who held so much power.

 

                Inside, it was a completely different matter.

 

                “You are more human than you think.” Gabriel ran his fingers through silken blonde hair, feeling Jack tense against him, “More human than a lot of people I know. And you manage to keep that part so guarded, so whole, through all the shit that was dumped on you. That’s what makes you admirable.”

 

                There was a breathless chuckle, cradled at the crook of his neck. Unconsciously, Jack’s arms tightened around him. It was not nearly enough to express his appreciation towards Jack, but it was what the vampire needed to hear.

 

                “Though I can ask the same. Why me?”

 

                It took a moment, but Jack dislodged from Gabriel’s chest, righting himself to look his mate in the eyes. Cornflower blue was the reminiscent of clear summer sky, bottomless in a way that tugged at Gabriel’s heartstrings. He loved how dishevelled the usual pristine golden hair was, how kiss-bruised full lips were, how creases form at tall forehead as Jack focused on him and him alone. How hands, big and strong from the countless guns they had fired in their days, framed Gabriel’s face wholly, stroking his short beard with so much aching love and care.

 

                “Because you are my equal. My missing part.”

 

                Jack bowed his head, meeting Gabriel’s brows half way. Blue eyes closed, he pressed Gabriel’s hand against his chest, where Jack’s unbeating heart lay. The sentiment was clear. Gabriel didn’t know what, how to respond to this. Funnily enough, Jack struggled with his words, until a nervous chuckle let itself known. But he didn’t need to elaborate, didn’t need his usually flourishing tongue.

 

                Gabriel understood.

 

                “I don’t want to lose you.” The words were barely audible, vulnerable and the complete opposite of the picture Jack painted himself for others to see.

 

                Coaxing the vampire’s chin up with a finger, Gabriel could see resignation and uncertainty playing on sculpted features. A self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of Jack’s lips. Gabriel kissed it, rough beard tickling against Jack’s smooth skin. Chaster and sweeter than Jack’s charms, something almost innocent even as they are still connected so intimately.  

 

                “You’re not going to.”

 

                Jack’s huff is a bit forced, like there is something choked in his throat. Gun-calloused fingers dances down the vampire’s spine, guiding Jack back to nestle against Gabriel’s throat. Movements started up again, stirring both their interests. Jack’s lips perched upon Gabriel’s pulse, arms encircling the Hunter’s waist, soft hitching noises escaped him with every thrust. Without much thinking on his part, Gabriel touched the tear on his own lip, smearing blood on his finger. He offered it to Jack, brushing into the vampire’s wet tongue, feeling the elongated fangs on his skin.

 

                “Don’t be afraid.” Gabriel rumbled, rocking into Jack with the same pace they started. Open-mouthed kisses were pressed along tan skin, lapping and caressing the well-mapped expanse. Jack had obviously drawn blood before, but nothing like this. Gabriel carried on without one stuttering movement, knowing the gravity of the situation.

 

                After this, there was no turning back.

 

                The bite was deeper than before, accompanying a numbing sensation that was familiar yet foreign. Jack latched onto Gabriel like a vice, draining the man to a state of light-headedness, and he savoured it with every lengthy stroke of tongue, not letting one drop escape. It was, after all, his last drink from Gabriel. The venom stung, but Gabriel bit down a hiss.

 

                Jack’s rose, blood staining his lips into petals that Gabriel couldn’t help but kiss, dazed out of his mind. But he didn’t linger for too long, trailing down the vampire’s titled ivory neck. Inhaling the scent of honey and sunshine, Gabriel briefly wondered if he would have a “life flashing before his eyes” moment.

 

                It never came and Gabriel bit down without warning.

 

                Jack howled, a dragged out moan that threw his head back and made him ride Gabriel’s cock faster, in an almost feral speed. Blood flooded into the Hunter’s mouth, somehow sweet and bitter at the same time, and Gabriel gulped it down before his body could reject it. Crimson dribbled down his chin as he gripped onto Jack with a force that would have broken any lesser man.

 

                The transformation wasn’t painful per say, but it was damn intense if Gabriel had to pick a word. His fangs started growing. His vision bloomed and bled into a sharper, more flared spectrum. His hearing sense skidded down an endless slide that had everything louder and louder as every second ticked by. He could hear every shift they were making, the obscene noises of flesh against flesh, his slowing heartbeats and pulse, every creak of the tatami underneath, every hollowed gasp and moan.

 

                The charm thickened, curling in his nostrils, tangible with a hint of something else. Something that budded among sweat, sex and blood, gradually and then steadily overwhelming, twining with sunshine and honey into a combination of fragrance that was almost dizzying.

 

                Open sea and gladiolus.

 

                Gabriel didn’t realise when he pinned Jack down, when his fangs dug so deep into his mate that they were almost closed, when he pounded into Jack so relentlessly the vampire was a twisting mess. Gabriel didn’t stop even when Jack came in violent spurts between their bodies, his mouth still latched onto Jack’s shoulder as if it was his lifeline and fucked into his mate despite Jack’s thrashing in the oversensitive aftershock. Jack screams became an incoherent string of Gabriel’s names, bucking wildly when the newborn vampire forced out another orgasm from him within seconds.

 

                Despite this, Gabriel still didn’t stop, didn’t slow, and when he snapped his jaws open from Jack’s bloodied shoulder, he flipped the elder vampire around without pulling out and continued fucking into his mate, not missing a beat. The floor cracked under Jack’s hands. Gabriel’s knees spread Jack’s legs apart impossibly wide and grinded hilt-deep into him with lightning fast strokes. Groping hands on his ass pushed Jack back to meet each thrust, the pale vampire coiling into himself as he shouted, moaned and cried, absolutely shattered as a third wave hit him like a gunshot.

 

                And yet, it continued. Gabriel was lost, the sensory overload drove him feral, and peace was found in the only place he knew: within Jack. He wound arms around his mate, hoisting Jack up, back flat against Gabriel’s chest, leaving the elder vampire clawing at the air desperately. Gabriel roared into taunt muscles, biting into them. Jack’s shout was deafening, sitting astride Gabriel’s thighs in full display, so viciously and thoroughly fucked he was shooting blank. His voice became a garbled jumble, his body strung up like a snapping bow. Caught between the dead and the living, guttural moans and intelligible pleas were yanked out of Jack without mercy in throes of blinding pleasure. But Gabriel was close, his rhythm is missing and his hips stuttering, frantic to keep himself going, grips bone-breaking on Jack’s body.

 

                Gabriel hit his limit with a muffled, rumbling snarl that vibrated up Jack’s spine, pumping the elder vampire full of his seeds, muscles convulsing. As if every string was cut from his body, Gabriel falls backward with a thud, not minding the slightest as Jack flopped down with him, boneless and shaking like a leaf. Yet, he still didn’t feel exhausted, just a dulling sensation at the back of his mind, white spots dancing at the edge of his vision while everything else was still extremely acute.

 

                Still, he placed a hand on Jack chest, anchoring his mate quivering form to him. Fingers came up to stroke the already healing shoulder, brushing away dried flakes of blood.

 

                “Are you alright?” Gabriel heard himself asking, a strange feeling thick in his hoarse voice.

 

                Like all the air was sucked out of his lungs, but without the burning sensation. Physically, the former Hunter felt strangely empty and brimming with strength at the same time. He found himself breathing, out of habit, but as he stopped, there was no strain. His body felt so light, but not the floating feeling after a particularly good bout of sex, which they definitely just had.

 

Just light. Like he weighted next to nothing, no effort taken when he lifted his arms and brushed thick hands down along Jack’s abs, sweeping away the drying cum as they went.

 

                He should have been exhausted, his limbs should have felt like lead.

 

                Jack shuddered, turning himself to the side and hissing when Gabriel finally slipped out of him, slick wetness splayed on their already sticky bodies, and curled into a tight ball atop his mate’s chest. As silence passed, Gabriel became alarmed, but Jack soon placed a kiss on his chest, where Gabriel’s heart no longer beat.

 

                Unconsciously, Gabriel reached up and touched his own teeth. Jack chuckled at his surprised expression, if not a bit nervously so, when Gabriel found the tips of his own fangs. The elder vampire looked like he wanted to say something, but caught it before the words tumbled out, and sighed quietly when Gabriel’s other hand carded through his golden hair.

 

                “That was good. So good…” He snuggled into Gabriel’s neck, slurring a little and purring like an oversized cat, content and blissed out, “Thank you.”

 

                The sentiment carried more than just one meaning. Gabriel pullws his mate closer, still at loss with all his enhanced senses, and burieshis face into blonde locks, blocking out the world around them. Allowing themselves this one moment of calmness before the storm.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

                “The Shimada clan has no personal disagreement with Overwatch. You will find no help from us should you declare a war.”

 

                Hanzo’s answer to the matter was expected, the shaman’s expression as smooth and cold as a frozen lake. It was difficult to tell what the rest of the presented faces were thinking, with Genji being obviously impossible to read. But Jesse’s fists clenched just a little too tight on his knees, Hana wore a heavy, calculative frown that Gabriel absolutely didn’t like, and Zenyatta seemed just a tad bit uncomfortable under his usual serenity. Jack’s façade was almost as impassive as Hanzo’s, but the thin line of his lips promised nothing good would come out of this should the meeting not go according to his plan.

 

                And even Gabriel didn’t know what exactly his mate was planning.

 

                For all the love and gentleness he received, Gabriel wasn’t stupid enough to believe Jack was completely innocent and without a trick or two up his sleeves. His mate was ancient, a vessel of pure power and he had survived far worse shit than anyone else. Despite his recklessness on the battlefield, Jack knew damn well how to play the game, precisely how to pull strings here and there when it came to business. Gabriel could bet his undead head on Jack having dirt on just about everyone in this room. Wanting to take down Overwatch was of course Gabriel’s idea to celebrate his first year of being a vampire, but calling upon the denizens of the Shimada Castle had been Jack’s proposal.

 

                Admittedly, it sent a thrill down Gabriel’s spine, knowing what Jack was capable of.

 

                The tension after Hanzo’s statement could be cut with a knife. No one was willing to break the silence, despite their own conflicting emotions. Thoughts were considered, discarded and renewed rapidly. For once, Gabriel was placid and patient. Even if they gained no support here, it still would serve as great entertainment.

 

                “I have a friend.”

 

                 He didn’t think anyone had expected the kumiho to speak first. Hana looked troubled, but not because all eyes were on her. She furrowed her impeccable brows, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, ever so elegant. But there was a touch of impatience behind the flick of her wrist and the agitated twitching of her tails betrayed any masked emotion.

 

                “Lúcio is his name. A peaceful creature, only ever wishes to make music and bring joy to his peers, even though most of them aren’t even remotely close to be humans. He used to have a grove near the Mediterranean area.” Hana’s frown turned into a full scowl, red-brown eyes dancing with a sudden hatred infamous of her kind, “Overwatch burned it to the ground, because there were blind accusations claiming he was charming the local maidens. There was no investigation. He barely escaped.”

 

                “The Pan.” Gabriel suddenly said, dragging everyone’s gaze to him, as vague memories begin to surface. Hana’s narrowed eyes zeroed on him, blazing with startling malice. But she barely scared him more than a meowing kitten, which Gabriel supposed was idiotic of him to think, given what Hana Song was, in spite of her delicate appearance. The newborn vampire continued after a baited beat, head titling to the side.

 

                “I wasn’t in charge of that mission. Read about it, but was caught up with another one. Couldn’t figure out for the life of me why anyone would bother to go after a Pan. They are usually harmless.”

 

                “Well, this one wouldn’t harm a fly even if it flies into his nose and makes a nest there. He has a throes of frog friends, for crying out loud!” Hana’s voice was venomous, folding her arms in the ruffles of her sleeves in a vicious motion.

 

                But she then sighed, her fire disappears just as quickly as it has flared up, and Hana looked several years older than what she displayed, “He is the kindest I have ever met on my many journeys. The best friend I’d ever have. For a long time…my only friend. Finding his grove burned to the ground hadn’t been a good experience. Finding him grievously wounded was even worse.”

 

                She paused with another sigh, eyes closed with a pained pinch of her brows. But when Hana glanced up, savage resentment etched on the too-young planes of her visage, beastly and truly shows the writhing darkness of her nature, “People who kill without reason are no different than the lowest of our kind. They think they are Gods just because they manage to exterminate some vermin and prey on the weak. Overwatch will pay, and they will pay with blood.”

 

                Gabriel bit the inside of his cheeks, so he wouldn’t let out an appreciative whistle. Hanzo seemed completely blind-sided about this, but the shaman adamantly and stubbornly held onto his mask of indifference.

 

                That was, until Jesse McCree voiced himself.

 

                “Am goin’ s’well.”

 

                Indignation, rage and shocked hurt all flashed across Hanzo’s face before they were snuffled out mercilessly into hardened expressionlessness. Jesse looked damned guilty reaching a hand towards his mate, but retracted it at the last second at Hanzo’s icy glare. Swallowing, Jesse straightened himself, and curled his fingers into an even tighter fist on his thigh.

 

                “Overwatch and I have a history. Just t’ state t’ obvious.” The vampire nodded his head awkwardly, shooting Jack a meaningful stare. The Maker acknowledged this with a dip of his chin and Jesse carried on, if not without some difficulty.

 

                “I thought I was ready t’ let of o’ it all. F’ a while, it seems better that way. But it ain’t right, what they’re doin’. If ‘em plannin’ f’ some kind o’ purge don’t ring an alarm somewhere in yer head, then I don’t know what’d. If we keep turnin’ a blind eye, eventually they’ll come f’ us. An’ it ain’t ‘cause we house Jack an’ Gabi. Or myself. Us bein’ what we are is ‘nough t’ pain targets on our backs. I guarantee y’ what’ver pack y’ have wit’ ‘em don’t mean shit. They’ve only been quiet ‘cause they don’t wanna start a war. ‘Cause they haven’t gotten ‘nough firepower t’ rain on us yet. But the threats are there. We ignore ‘em t’ grow, t’ do what’ver they want. That ain’t gonna save us once they decide t’ turn on us.”

 

                They must have talked about this beforehand, Jesse and Hanzo. Judging by the shaman’s rapidly chilling features, Gabriel, and anyone else really, could guess what had transpired between the two of them. Hanzo obviously didn’t want Jesse to leave, either for the vampire’s safety or out of his own reasons. However, between McCree and Overwatch there was just too much blood for the latter to turn a blind eye.

 

                Gabriel hadn’t been too sure about McCree’s joining, the cowboy never had spoken his opinions about Overwatch aloud despite his past. So this had been quite a surprise. Gabriel wasn’t too curious as to what has driven the guy to agreeing with them against Hanzo’s wishes. Help was help, no matter in what shape or form.

 

                Hana gave McCree a prim, approval nod. Genji was still awfully quiet. But that wans’t surprising. The enchanted suit of armour was a wild card. He would act as he pleased and, if experience served right, there wasn’t much Hanzo could do or say to stop his brother.

 

                Not because Hanzo was inadequate in any mean, or that Genji was uncontrollable with his impulses. There were simply too much guilt and unspoken burdens between the two brothers.

 

                “While I do agree that Overwatch must be stopped, bringing them down might not be the wisest choice.” Zenyatta’s voice was ever a soothing hum, though not enough to dissipate the straining atmosphere. Didn’t seem to bother him, however, “Without them, the balance will be thrown out of orbit, the less reasonable parts of the supernatural community will not be content to stay in the shadows any longer. No human will be safe then. Would that be a price you are willing to bargain?”

 

                Hana looked like she wanted to retort rudely to that question, but Jack beat her to it, “Tekhartha Mondatta.”

 

                Every trace of tranquillity was lost, blood draining completely from Zenyatta’s features. For a moment there, Gabriel thought the monk would fly across the room and punch Jack in the face. But he sat frozen, every next word from Jack’s mouth was another nail on Zenyatta’s coffin.

 

                “Mondatta initiated the first successful treaty with the local mythical denizens. People were sceptical, but slowly were convinced. Words spread like wildfire. A new era of peace was spoken of.” A brief pause before everything plunged straight to hell, “That was until he fell victim to an assassination. None other than by an entangling bride. The Spider woman.”

 

                “Amélie Lacroix.” The name was carefully pushed out behind the monk’s closed teeth. Something akin to a spoken omen. Zenyatta shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

                Silence dominated the room once more. The effort the monk took to calm himself was flinchingly visible. Jack had stricken a chord. Even Genji was sitting a bit straighter now. Fury returned to Hana.

 

                “She is Overwatch. And still is alive.”

 

                Zenyatta’s head snapped up with an audible click, his oversized mala shifted dangerously, “Impossible! We have vanquished her!”

 

                “With all due respect, Master, but you can’t exactly kill a jorōgumo with spells and chanting.” Genji’s input was sudden, quiet but clearly heard, “At least not with the ones we usually deal with. It requires a lot of…unconventional brutality to get rid of them.”

 

                Honestly, Gabriel was partially sure Zenyatta would completely lose it by then, with one long, delicate hand covered the pain and frustration in his features. Jack watched the monk like a hawk.

 

                And yet, Zenyatta’s expression smoothed out like a sheet of polished metal when he finally met Jack’s stare.

 

                “We cannot solve violence with more violence.” Zenyatta pointed out, a touch of steel in his voice, but far more composed than a moment before, “What Overwatch have done and been planning to do is wrong. But eliminating them would not make the situation any better. It might cause more chaos than good.”

 

                “Are you suggesting that we leave them be?” Hana’s eyes narrowed to slits, her tone oozing objection.

 

                Zenyatta was not swayed, “I am suggesting taking them out in one fell swoop might sate your vengeance at that moment of time, but are you willing to fix the consequences following Overwatch’s fall?”

 

                Nobody answered. Conflict danced in McCree’s eyes, his gaze darting from his lap to Jack, and then Hanzo, who still adamantly glared a hole onto the floor. On the other hand, Hana was having a hard time reining in her anger. After all, out of everyone here, the kumiho was the only one to not have sworn of protecting humankind.

 

A thousand years of age and more, Hana did what she wanted without caring about the aftermath. Fox demons were flickering things. They were cunning and far smarter than their well-crafted appearances, and they had little concern when it came to the living. Hana would guard her interests should shit go down in flames, nothing else. As of now, what Zenyatta had to say held no convincing power over the kumiho.

 

                However, Gabriel understood Zenyatta was correct in a sense. He might be enraged, but he wasn’t without reason. The threats had always been there, the one thing Gabriel was concerned about and one among many issues Jack had with bringing down Overwatch for good. And it dawned on Gabriel that calling for this meeting wasn’t simply to gain allies for their conquest. It was also to settle Gabriel down so that he could think properly about the situation they would be getting themselves into.

 

                The bastard was far too perceptive.

 

                Jack was aware that there were still honest, good people working for Overwatch. The friends that Gabriel wouldn’t want to harm. And that, even though Gabriel was no longer human or had any technical obligation to protect other mortals, he still cared enough to help people along the way.

 

                Gabriel was slightly offended. But he knew Jack didn’t simply want to convince him one last time. His mate wasn’t that simple.

 

                “We don’t necessarily have to wipe them off the face of the earth.” Gabriel prompted, breaking the long, pregnant pause. He keenly felt the slightest shift of Jack’s body and bit back a smirk, “Most of the members don’t even know about the corruption or the experiments. Because even the leaders know their own people won’t fall into their ranks if the truth is exposed. Overwatch can be salvaged. But the current heads need to be cut off and replaced.”

 

                “There will always be corruption in man’s heart.” Hana groused, inspecting her sharp nails with much impatience.

 

Gabriel shook his head, “There will always be corruption everywhere you look. Neither the humans nor the supernatural beings are completely innocent. The point is, Overwatch is a necessity even though none of us likes the idea. If fixed, they can still be of use.”

 

                “Don’t be delusional.” The kumiho scoffed, “Humans are afraid of things they don’t understand. Fear leads to hate. Hate leads to extreme measures. It is a never-ending circle.”

 

                “You are being pessimistic.” Zenyatta sighed, “Humanity and inhumanity have more in common than you think.”

 

                “Let’s say that this works.” Anger was ebbing her voice again as Hana leveled the monk with a heated glare, “Appoint a new leader. Assume this candidate of yours is lawfully good. But they will not last forever. Mortals die, if you haven’t noticed. What would guarantee the next one in line is the same? And we can’t put either one of you or any of us in charge either. That would ruin the illusion of humans being in control. No mortal would follow that banner. Overwatch as it is holds far too much power even if the public isn’t aware of this. And the supernatural community have too much pride or divided ambitions in themselves to band together and fight in one front. We will get exterminated one by one if this continues.”

 

                “That isn’t to say the nonhuman population is completely innocent either.” Genji regarded her with a tilt of his helm, the visible green light of his construct fluttered with his movement, “It is undeniable. Even you will fall those who do wrong. Overwatch serve a purpose, even if they are pushing it to an extreme.”

 

                “There must always be a balance.” Jesse hummed, a scowl pulling his thick brows together under the rim of his ridiculous hat, “’Fact that th’ superna’rals lack a solid head figure makes things a wee bit more diff’cult. If Overwatch has to fall, someone else must hold th’ reins.”

 

                “And that will not be us.” Hanzo’s tone was withering and icy, drawing eyes on him once more, “The Shimada clan is only responsible for Japan. When I die, the line will be buried with me. Global coverage for us is impossible.”

 

                The lines on Jesse McCree’s visage immediately hardened. Overwhelming hurt swirled in his brown eyes as he stared at his mate for a long moment, before abruptly standing up, leaving the room with a slam of paper door. Hana winced at the sharp noise, and whipped around to glare at the stoic shaman. Even though his features were still neutral, Gabriel could clearly hear Hanzo’s heartbeats picking up in pace, the desire to chase after McCree was strong as his blood rushed haphazardly. Hana stood to leave in a rustle of her silken clothes, calling out for him and without another word to the others.

 

                Interesting turn of event.

 

                Hanzo’s knuckles turned white on his knees when his brother also made for the door, a quick whisper of Japanese brushed over the shaman as Genji passed him.

 

                “I still have hope for you. Don’t be stubborn.”

 

                Zenyatta was back to looking uncomfortable again.

 

                Gabriel and Jack left, not another uttered, closing the door on Hanzo’s stiff, strained figure. Inhaling lungsful of the air outside and immediately regretted it with how many other smells he picked up, Gabriel shook his head a little. This would take some time to get used to…

 

                “That has certainly been…exciting.” Jack breathed, the back of his hand brushing Gabriel’s until the latter linked their fingers together.

 

                “Not quite mouthy today, aren’t you?” Gabriel grumbled, rubbingcircles onto his mate’s smooth skin as they aimlessly strolled away from the meeting room.

 

                “Everyone else did the speaking for me. There was simply no need.”

 

                Gabriel huffed, still having mixed feelings about how manipulative Jack could be, “Looks like you got what you came for.”

 

                “I always have had it. Right here.” A squeeze on his hand to emphasis the words, Jack turned to study Gabriel’s features with keen blue eyes. He continued after a moment, when Gabriel didn’t answer, “Between the two of us, I am fairly certain we can take down Vaswani and her devotees. Might be a stretch, but still possible if planned carefully. But we need to know where we will stand afterwards.”

 

                “Never knew being careful is your strong forte.”

 

                Jack’s voice suddenly turned crisp and serious, “It is now. I have you.”

 

                They halted to a stop. Gabriel turned to look at him. Jack’s blue eyes were troubled and there was a pinch on his brows, staring at Gabriel’s unmoving neck. Feeling his chest constricting, Gabriel brought a hand up to brush along his mate’s cut jawline, “I can take care of myself.”

 

                “I know that. But I won’t risk anything even if I must.” Jack leaned into his touch with a sigh, “If you only ask, I would not hesitate to kill every single man and woman of Overwatch, regardless of their allegiance and action.”

 

                “You also know I won’t.” Not worth it if the mere thought would torment Jack so much. The blonde’s lips twitched upward, Gabriel’s thumb brushing against it.

 

                “And that’s why I love you.”

 

                They shared a kiss, chaste and leisure. Jack parted from Gabriel with an impulsive, whimsical chuckle that made the latter raise an eyebrow questioningly. Shaking his head, Jack tugged Gabriel forward, falling back to their walk easily.

 

                “This worked a little too well, if I have to admit. Hanzo needed a nudge.”

 

                A smirk twitched at Gabriel’s mouth, “You devilish little minx. That was mean, though.”

 

                “It was.” Jack agreed without a beat, sighing again, “He is far too prideful for his own good. They, he and Jesse, deserve something much better than this.”

 

                “You don’t want Jesse to be hurt.”

 

                “To put it bluntly, yes. Jesse is a good kid. His heart is in the right place even though he can be quite at war with himself. Hanzo, on the other hand, has too many obligations and has yet to sort out his priorities.”

 

                Amused, Gabriel nudged Jack with his shoulder, “Look at you, playing the matchmaker.”

 

                “I am the one who introduced them together in the first place, thank you very much.” Jack flicked his chin up haughtily, but in the end shared a laughter with his mate. He sobered just as quickly, fidgeting a little in Gabriel’s hand, “I didn’t expect Jesse to react so dramatically, however. Perhaps your transformation is too impactful for him.”

 

                Ah, that.

 

                Gabriel had no doubt Jesse and Hanzo went through the same issues as they, Jack and Gabriel, had. Immortality and mortality did not mix well. While Jack and Gabriel came to a compromise, the other two never did. Hanzo wanted to retain his humanity, while Jesse was too selfless to push his mate. But Gabriel could understand the latter.

 

Turning into a blood-sucking creature wasn’t a fate one should force upon someone whom he cared most about. Jack would have never offered either if Gabriel didn’t ask. Even now, Jack was still excessively careful about Gabriel’s newfound abilities, walking his mate through baby steps and fussing about him at every turn.

 

                Honestly, Jack could be rather overbearing, and Gabriel knew he had every rights to be. Didn’t mean it couldn’t get frustrating.

 

                Gabriel wanted to spearhead into the fray and learn everything as he went, but Jack didn’t want him to be overwhelmed. The blonde almost had a heart attack when Gabriel accidentally discovered he could phase through solid objects by turning into a sheen of blackened smoke. Gabriel could also now teleport, so long as the location of his arrival was in sight and had an overlay of shadow.

 

In truth, Gabriel thought Jack was a little terrified at how quickly he was adapting. His transition was a lot smoother than Jesse’s without Overwatch’s interference, and Gabriel inherited a potent amount of Jack’s abilities from the get-go. They just hadn’t known to what extent. Which, in Gabriel’s opinion, could be quite interesting to find out. Perhaps he could do without the thirst, but even that was manageable. Hanzo obviously didn’t want either of them to run out and have an accidental killing spree somewhere, so they were both well-fed with the household’s donated blood.

 

                There was, of course, the problem with Jack’s conditioned addiction given to him by Overwatch, but they hoped with enough blood sources switching, it wouldn’t flare up any time soon and possibly rid Jack of that curse. This could be difficult and Jack might potentially lose a significant amount of strength in the meantime as he had in the past, but neither of them wanted any residue of Overwatch’s influence on the elder vampire. Of course, to weaken Jack would take some lengthy period of time, but it would still be difficult for him to rehabilitate.

 

                At least they had eternity to spare.

 

                “Should we go find Jesse?” Gabriel asked after a moment of aimless wandering. Even though they weren’t exactly close, Gabriel did enjoy Jesse’s company. The other vampire was jovial and light of heart, he was also far smarter and more observant than he let on.

 

Perceptive, dangerous, but too kind for a blood-sucking monster. Jesse was like Jack in that way, more human than what he truly was. McCree had always been humble and considerate, despite his cheesy jokes and stupid one-liners.

 

                “Your presence…our presence might do him more harm than good.” Jack shook his head. It was clear how much his mate was concerned about Jesse. In a parental way of sort. Reasonable, given their rocky start and Jack having played a great role in Jesse’s life. The elder vampire felt responsible, as he had told Gabriel on numerous occasions.

 

It was something Gabriel could understand quite well. He had a similar relationship with Lena Oxton, back when his life still wasn’t so fucked up. A chipper, optimistic thing, she had been as wide-eyed and full of ideals as any other shiny new recruit, but there was a fire in Lena that set her apart from the rest of them. Her determination, just another word for stubbornness, matched his own, and Gabriel soon found himself taking the kid under his wings.

 

                Not for the first time since they left, Gabriel wondered how Lena and the others were doing. The ex-Hunter was not one for anything social. Still, there were those whom he kept close. Ana has definitely been one of them, someone he looked up to and had enough wits in her to keep up with his snarky attitude. Despite not liking children, her child, Fareeha, was definitely a joy to him, polite and curious that somehow reminded Gabriel of his lost sister. And then there was Reinhardt, the old fool, ever so valorous despite his age, so believing and full of hope.

 

                Gabriel didn’t believe any of them would be corrupted. Someone like Lena would never have it in her to follow Vaswani’s fanatical ideals. Same with Ana and Reinhardt. Honestly, it worried Gabriel. His disappearance must have raised questions. Ana might have an idea, sharp as she was, but Lena could be as bull-headed as Gabriel at times. There was a high chance she wouldn’t listen to whatever bullshit fed to her and might just run off digging around. If she stumbled across what he had found…

 

                The newborn vampire heaved out an exhale. The urge to rush back and fight was strong, even when then rational part of him kept him in place. He couldn’t start being careless now. Not when they didn’t have a certain course of action to follow. They simply couldn’t just off Vaswani. People like her tended to have failsafe schemes and Overwatch collapsing on itself had the potential to open an entirely new era of chaos. If they were to do this, and they would, Gabriel didn’t want it to be a half-assed job.

 

                “What are you planning to do?” He asked Jack, because the bastard must have something in mind if he was being so certain. They stopped once more, standing over the windswept cliff of Shimada castle. The endless green before their eyes never failed to take Gabriel’s breath away, even if he no longer required air to function. The faded blue lines of the famed Mount Fuji, framing the edge of the sky, always managed to make him feel so small. They sat, legs swinging over the edge and hand still linking together, and watched the clouds drifting by in companionable silence.

 

                “I’d love to say that I have planned nothing, to just sweep you away and forget about everything that happened. That we could start anew, just the two of us, hidden away from the rest of the world and enjoy what life has to offer.” Jack’s voice was slow, melancholic and with just a drop of regret. A little frail and a little breathless, his grip tightened on Gabriel’s fingers

 

                “…But it is never that simple.”

 

                “No, it never is.”

 

                “You don’t have to do this.”

 

                A scowl marred Jack’s features, his blue eyes turned hard as he glared at the peaceful scenery before them, “I do. I have to. I should have done something far sooner.”

 

                Gabriel sighed. Letting go of his mate hand to throw an arm around Jack’s shoulders, he pulled the self-deprecating idiot against his body, and felt Jack’s tight furls of muscle slowly loosen.

 

                “Well, if you did, you wouldn’t have met me.”

 

                A surprised, faint smile, but a smile nonetheless, quirked up Jack’s down-turned mouth, “I suppose not.”

 

                They enjoyed that one moment of comfort, together and alone. But the mind was a treacherous place, where dark thoughts had a way of manipulating silence into something twisted and negativity-inducing. Gabriel and Jack knew this far too well.

 

                “Overwatch turns into what it is because it has a cause, but no conviction.” The blonde spoke, hand idly kneading Gabriel’s thigh as he sorted his wording, “They fight to protect, but the means for that protection are often obtained in the shadows. Behind the scene. Often with unacknowledged sacrifices. That blurs away the line of what is acceptable and what is not. When humans, who operates as judge, jury and executioners without a strict code to follow, evil is never far behind.”

 

                “But it works, or at least others believe it to, even their enemies, and that image alone prevents everything from plunging straight to hell. At least for now.” Jack’s eyes narrowed as he continues, fingers tapping on Gabriel's knee, “Whatever we do, we need to keep that image pristine. But we also need to bring Overwatch into the light. Burn away the corruption to its last root and replace it with a face, an ideal set in stones that will keep it going even if this new appointed face will fall. To give those who follow a belief and conviction. A tradition. To make Overwatch closer to the people, so Overwatch would serve them instead of being a mysterious figurehead it always has been. Something to look up to and offers conservation instead of being feared.”

 

                “You want to turn it into a cult.”

 

                Gabriel laughed aloud when Jack pinched him on the side, hard. The blonde added a punch, just for good measure, but it only served to make Gabriel laugh more. In the end, Jack tackled his mate to the side, pinching and tickling Gabriel until they were both breathless with mirth, tangling in a mess of limbs and chuckles.

 

                “It is what I intended it to be when we founded Overwatch.” The laughter died then. Sobering up, Gabriel carded his fingers through golden hair fanning on his chest, feeling Jack’s hand tracing the defined lines of his arm.

 

                “I think you know exactly who we may ask to lead after this purge.”

 

                Propping himself up on his elbows, Gabriel searched Jack’s cornflower blue eyes. It burnt deep, the answer, and Gabriel almost slapped himself for being so oblivious to the solution. Chuckling, he leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to Jack’s smiling lips.

 

                “Right. I assume we are leaving after you two are done being gross?”

               

                Gabriel growled. Hana smirked, peering down at them like it was her business. McCree was there, too, avoiding looking at the two at all cost and, surprisingly, Genji.

 

                Of course, Jack had to laugh at this.

 

                “You assume right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, writing this fic really drains me XD. The next chapter will be action-packed and answer a lot of questions.Thank you guys for following the series and leave a comment down below if you enjoy this! I love reading through every single comment and I hope you will enjoy more of this fic in near future! Thank you!!!


	6. Minutes to Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road to victory is never paved without pain and loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to [W4ndering Star](http://archiveofourown.org/users/W4nderingStar/pseuds/W4nderingStar).
> 
> Thank you so much for your encouragements, your wonderful, lovely comments and your support of this fic! Thank you so much for being such an inspiration to me and to many others, and I hope you will enjoy this chapter!!!

 

* * *

 

                Jack Morrison was the type of man who likes having the majority of his life planned out beforehand. _Life_ in a figurative sense. It could be unnecessary, yes, being an undead, and something damn hard to kill at that, and it nullified many causes to worry about. However, vampires did not sleep, and it left an awful lot of time for old memories to surface. So Jack mapped out his moves instead, because if he didn’t, the anxiety could grow to be quite crippling.

 

                But then again, he supposed the paranoia that came with all the brainstorming wasn’t that much better of a substitute. And Jack hadn’t been planning anything so thoroughly for a long time.

 

                “You look like you have constipated pain.”

 

                He elbowed Gabriel in the ribs and promptly admired the laughter than rumbled forth from the man. With a long, exasperated sigh, Jack leaned onto his mate’s side, relishing the feeling of Gabriel’s arm wrapping around his shoulders. Silence was comfortable, a still beat in the whirlwind of thoughts he was caught in. Only to be immediately distracted when Gabriel’s fingers started to disintegrate into black smoke before reforming again. The younger vampire did this several times, fascination written all over his handsome visage, and Jack didn’t know if he was amused or slightly disturbed.

 

                Gabriel adapted too quickly. Honestly, it scared Jack a little.

 

                “How does it feel when you do that?”

 

                “Tingly.” Gabriel huffed, manipulating the smog so it curled lazily around them both, “It’s strange, because I can still feel as normal, just stretched out and can go any direction as I please, if that makes any sense.”

 

                The smoke suddenly turned into a winding whip, snapping at the air drily before turning back to normal. Gabriel clenched and unclenched his hand, flipping it around and popping the knuckles experimentally.

 

                Yes, _far too quickly_.

 

                “Does it bother you at all?” Jack found himself asking, feeling that uncomfortable curd of anxiety surfacing and rolling in his stomach. Calloused fingers caressed his temple then, and Jack melted into the touch.

 

                “A little bit.” Gabriel admitted. Much to Jack’s relief, Gabriel twined the hand with his instead of doing more tricks, “Getting used to the feeling of my body being able to do all that is weird. And you know the sensory overload has been difficult.”

 

                That Jack knew, though he couldn’t exactly complain about Gabriel’s _coping mechanism_. They had been having so much sex the rest of their group tend to stay away as soon as Gabriel directed one of his scowls at Jack. Needless to say, Jack had never been this satisfied in his long, long life. It gave him a glow almost, and he had an embarrassing tendency to purr whenever Gabriel’s large hands wandered.

 

                Like right now.

 

                Jack snuggled closer, basking in his mate’s touch and in the tantalizing scent of open sea and gladiolus. The charm suited Gabriel so much, in Jack’s opinion at least. Knowing that, out of every other new ability, the charm was the one thing Gabriel didn’t have a clear grasp upon made Jack’s unbeating heart swell. Only upper class vampires possessed charms, those who could utilize them to seduce unsuspecting and untrained mortals, among some other selective supernatural beings. If the vampire couldn’t control their charm yet, it often only reached out to the objects of their affection.

 

                It was flattering and sappy at the same time, it also made some parts of his uncertainty rest. With everything that had been going on, one drop of peace was rare, and Jack would cling onto that with all his might. However, it makes Jack felt rather guilty when that thought inevitably brougt him to Jesse.

 

                Poor kid seemed completely _destroyed_ , especially at their departure, when Hanzo was nowhere to be seen. Jesse had always been light-hearted, _well,_ since after he and Jack cleared the weighting burdens between them least, and he had been so perfectly happy with his mate. Jack felt responsible for this, ripping Jesse away and back into this mess. But it would also take a blind man to not notice the issues that have been plaguing Jack’s broodling and Hanzo lately.

 

The shaman wasn’t going to stop aging any time soon and Jesse wasn’t moving forward.

 

                More than anyone else, Jack wished to push Hanzo towards the happiness than both he and Jesse deserved, but at the same time, he understood it best as to why Jesse was behaving the way he was. If Gabriel hadn’t asked, Jack would never have asked him to turn. Making his mate into a vampire was too steep of a price. This was something that must be done on someone’s own free will. They didn’t need another to suffer like Jesse had.

 

                At least Gabriel didn’t seem to mind, surprisingly given his past. Jack’s more insecure corner of mind was still afraid of Gabriel regretting this decision. Alas, nothing could be changed now. Yet, sometimes, when he fancied running his fingertips upon the well-sculpted planes of his mate’s face, Jack still feared. That one day Gabriel would hate him for this, that he would no longer hold the man’s precious affection in time.

 

                “You’re worrying again.” Gabriel groused against his forehead, nosing the line of his golden hair. Jack squirmed, though there was warmth seeping through his entire being.

 

                “What’s new?” He half-jested, earning himself a nip for his trouble, and laughed softly without mirth, “But there are just…so many things that can go wrong.”

 

                Gabriel didn’t answer him immediately. It was what Jack loved about his mate, part of his natural charm that had nothing to do with vampiric powers. The man was quick of wit, but his wording on more important matters was considerate, and he wasn’t afraid to take his time to answer.  They had established step-by-step of what to do as they slowly made their way towards Europe (not on boat this time, much to Gabriel’s delight.)

 

                Jack still wasn’t entirely happy about everything, but he knew it is necessary and he would be damned if he didn’t plan out everything to the best of his ability. Overwatch most likely knew they were coming, with Jack and Gabriel’s rather violent departure. While Jack was rather doubtful of the organization knowing them taking refuge in Hanamura, it was, after all, one of his more private projects, but the possibility could not be ruled out.

 

                Satya Vaswani was cunning, her intellectual level had put many before her to shame. And Jack was, in the end of the day, a valuable property of Overwatch. To add oil to the fire, Gabriel had dug up so much dirt on the organization and, given his attitudes, retaliation was to be expected.

 

                Overwatch would not put it pass them to have gathered some allies along the way, but they couldn’t have guessed the guns Jack was bringing into the game. However, that was not to say Overwatch was defenceless. Jack knew precisely _what_ they were going to use against him and even though he had utter confidence in his ability to take them down, both he and the organization knew it would take a toll on his emotional stability.

 

                “There will always be risks going into battle. Seeing you fret beforehand is more worrisome.” Gabriel humed, his fingers playing with Jack’s idly, “You always think too much, yes, but for the more pressing business matters, you are always so sure of yourself. You have planned out exactly what we are going to do, every detail of the way. What are you truly afraid of?”

 

                He didn’t need to say it. Jack had said this, once or twice, but he knew Gabriel remembered. He wassn’t fond of repeating himself either and Jack felt silly for even bringing it up, even unintentionally, again like this.  

 

                “Do you trust me?” Gabriel asked suddenly, which immediately made Jack scowl.

 

                “With all that I am.”

 

                “Good, then let me try this.” A pause, “I’m not that terrible in character evaluation, you know?”

 

                Jack gave him a flat look and gestured at himself. Gabriel stared right back challengingly. It made Jack laugh, “Fine.” He conceded good-naturedly, “I don’t know them like you do. Not the _majority_ of them and not _personally_ so anyway.”

 

                “Another way of saying you stalked my friends.”

 

                “I wouldn’t put it that way.” Jack laughed again at Gabriel’s raised eyebrow, “I believe the better expression would be that I was..ah _, curious_.”

 

                It garnered him a smug smirk, stretching the bearded corner of Gabriel’s mouth, “The correct expression would be _jealousy_ , but hey, whatever you say goes, sunshine.”

 

                Jack elbowed him again, scowling, but in the end gave in and chuckled along Gabriel’s bemused rumbles. The light banters loosened him up, if just by a little. Of course, Jack was concerned about the idea of contacting Gabriel’s friends. To him, they were wild cards. There was no guarantee they hadn’t fallen into Vaswani’s ranks. However, as he reminded himself, Gabriel didn’t have to follow him to Japan. He could have easily said no for basically the same reason. But Gabriel trusted Jack and Jack, in turn, should trust Gabriel’s judgement. Just because he had more experiences in the years didn’t mean he was right on every matter. If anything, Gabriel had proven to be a lot matured than Jack on certain aspects of life.

 

                Hell, Gabriel had put _his life_ into Jack’s hand, and Jack would make damn sure that his mate wasn’t going to regret his decision.

 

                Even though the guilt was heave, Jack enlisted Jesses’s help along the way with teaching Gabriel to control his abilities. They hadn’t a lot of time until the inevitable battle and Jack would do everything to have Gabriel ready by then. If Jesse was affected by spending more than necessary time with the two of them, the cowboy didn’t show, or at least covered it all up with jokes. Jesse had shed his ridiculous appearance into another questionable outfit, which Jack supposed was fitting if they happened to be in the Wild West instead of attempting to travel incognito through the larger parts of Asia and Europe. The kid didn’t lose his serape or the cowboy hat, but at least the remaining articles of clothing on him matched now instead of that God-awful yukata.

 

                Honestly, Jack thought the cowboy was trying a little too hard. He caught those worried looks Hana often sent Jesse’s way and Genji’s quiet assessment. They needed to talk, him and Jesse, but the latter avoided the chances of being alone with his maker at every turn. Fondly, if not exasperatedly so, Jack wondered why he had to surround himself in so much stubbornness. It was a bit of a pot calling kettle black moment.

 

                Technically speaking, they didn’t have to travel so slowly. But Jack, and Hana at that matter, had lived for far too long to have only one thing to fall back to. They were picking up allies along the way, old friends and comrades, who held the same purpose as they did, or at least something similar. Jack wasn’t surprised when many of them only agreed to come if Overwatch was dismantled completely, which significantly lowered his number of resources. Those who showed up were sceptical, but they trusted Jack enough to give his methods the benefit of the doubt. Surprisingly enough, Hana had a lot less difficulties in terms of recruitments.

 

                “Let’s just say I have a lot of _dedicated_ _support_.” The kumiho had winked at them, her nine tails fluttering smugly when yet another person showed up.

 

                Jack managed to procure an Alpha werewolf, Aleksandra Zaryanova, or Zarya in short, an Iron Dwarf named Torbjörn Lindholm and a mystical shadow witch going only by the name of Sombra. Compared to this, Hana’s bunch was a lot more rambunctious, eccentric, less selective and more anonymous than Jack’s hand-picked allies.

 

                Among those, most notable were a pyromaniac/necromancer named Jamison “Junkrat” Fawkes and his stitched together, lumbering silent follower that he called Roadhog or Mako, depending on his mood at the time. There was also a lanky, bespectacled gentleman, the kind and soft-voiced Doctor Harold Winston. According to Hana, he wass a shape-shifter that could turn into an enraged gorilla should the situation called for it. Bastion was an ancient construct, made of stone and steel, held together by magic conjured up during a forbidden ritual. And, of course, the fox’s adored friend, the Pan Lúcio. His heart wasn’t in the fight, that much was obvious from the get-go, but the gentle being of Nature agreed that something must be done about Overwatch. He would not be fighting to kill and he whole-heartedly agreed with the solution Jack was putting out.

 

                Not everyone else was as easy to convince as the Pan. Zarya for example. A third of her pack was gunned down by Overwatch in the wilds of Siberia, far away from civilization and had no intention to harm human to begin with. They were killed because they were spotted, no reason given. Zarya’s hatred ran deep and she wanted someone, _anyone_ to pay for the loss of her pack. Alphas were headstrong and while she had agreed to fight on Jack’s terms, the old vampire was not one hundred percent sure she would follow his command should her dominant trait surfaced. Torbjörn was a lot simpler, thankfully. He and Jack went way back, the Dwarf still owed the vampire a few favours, but Jack was willing to forfeit the rest of his debts after this. Dwarfs never missed any good bargain, and Torbjörn readily agreed when Jack puts up the offer. And Sombra, well…

 

                “I and Vaswani have some unfinished business.” The witch didn’t elaborate, hunching under her sweeping black cloak and intricately painted mask. Jack didn’t push further. Witches weren’t the most reliable creatures, but given a drive and none who possessed a brain would cross them. Jack knew Sombra from acquaintances in the past and had some dealings with her. They had a rather…professional relationship, at lack of better words.

 

                Fawkes, despite claiming that he was only there for some mayhem, had this odd glint of hatred whenever Overwatch was mentioned. The necromancer had a few screws loose, that was certain, and his behaviours erratic, but his slanted, sharps eyes were far too intelligent under thin sheen of madness. Nevertheless, Hana assured Jack that Fawkes was _under control_ , which the vampire was sceptical about, but there hadn’t been any incident, _yet_ , so he would keep quiet for the time being.

 

                Other than that, they were told Bastion had been on the run from Overwatch for decades, being a valuable experimental subject, and it hadn’t taken that long for Jack, and Gabriel surprisingly, to remember about the construct. Neither had been directly involved, but the organization had considered pitching either one of them into the mission, and there were of course files about the construct that they came across before.

 

                Doctor Winston was, apparently, an exile from his clan. A wanderer, so to speak, he had been travelling all over the world to help both humans and nonhumans alike. He had witnessed the brutality Overwatch wrought upon countless of his charges first hand and, to simply put, wasn’t happy about that.

 

                “Someone has to do it.” He said, shrugging as he stared into the dancing flames, dark circles under his eyes made the man look even more gaunt and tired.

 

                If Jack was honest to himself, which he often was depending on the setting of the situation, travelling in such a big group could be compromising. Everyone here was formidable in their own trade, but each of them held a different belief and approach to the issue. So far, there hadn’t been any argument broken out, _yet_ , but Zarya showed a particular mistrust towards Fawkes, Sombra and Bastion. Werewolves and magic didn’t mix well. Doctor Winston prefered to keep to himself as well while Lúcio stuch close to Hana. Overall, their allegiance was wary, as expected of so many supernatural beings of separate species gathering at one place. But it was _something_ and Jack couldn’t bring himself to complain over it.

 

                For other matters, Jack couldn’t rule out Overwatch suspecting him turning Gabriel. Certain failsafe had to be put down. The one thing Jack hated most in any operation was being caught off-guard. They were going in prepared and _they were going to win_. He and Gabriel _would_ walk away after this without any damage and that was _exactly_ what was going to happen. Jack would _not_ take any other alternative.

 

                With all those thoughts in mind, Jack was understandably stressing, which he supposed was normal. He couldn’t supervise Gabriel’s trainings as much as he would like to with so many people around. Especially those that needed their resolves and ideals shaped. It left his mate more time with Jesse and Jack, while wasn’t particularly adverse to the idea, was rather uncomfortable about. He could see it in Jesse’s eyes sometimes, comparing his own fate with Gabriel’s. Even if Jack knew the kid didn’t have it in him to harbour a resentment towards Gabriel for what Overwatch had done to him, there had always been that curd of bitterness within Jesse that, even with time, never seemed to go away. It was buried under all the happy years spent with Hanzo, but with his decision to leave, at least for the time being, Jack knew those negativities had been unearthed.

 

                He needed to talk to Jesse, preferably soon and before they encountered Overwatch.

 

                That was to say, he didn’t expect Jesse to come find him on his own.

 

                “Welp, y’ don’t see somethin’ like this ev’ry day.” Jesse grunted, flopping down beside Jack after a rather intensive training session with Gabriel, gesturing at the bustling camp a few feet away.

 

                Jack was just done having a conversation with Hana then, and the fox gave them a curious, if not mischievous glance, but she left without a word. Hana was much smarter than she let off and, while her priorities weren’t conventional, she cared about her friends. She knew Jesse needed this.

 

                “Desperate time calls for desperate measure.” Jack shrugged, keeping his tone jovial, “How did training go?”

 

                “Yer mate pr’gresses too fast.” Jesse pointed out bluntly, without any ill-intention behind it but neither did he seem happy, “He learns quickly an’ he wanna tries ev’rythin’. Very demandin’, too.”

 

                The grousing stopped for a moment when Jack gave a nervous chuckles, which prompted a sly grin. It did not quite warm Jesse’s brown eyes as it should have, but it was there nonetheless, “Can see why y’ bottom f’ him. _That_ y’ ain’t seein’ ev’ryday.”

 

                “There is nothing wrong with that.” Jack drawled, though he knew the burning sensation on his ears was betraying his tone. Perhaps it was egotistical of him, but Jack would rather die than admit aloud to Jesse that before Gabriel, he had _never_ bottomed before. There was a sense of control in it and, despite being close to many of them, Jack just never had the same connection he did with Gabriel. Gabriel was _different_. He put the hurricane that was Jack’s mind at ease.

 

                To the rest of his previous handlers, Jack felt mainly responsible for they were his charges, especially on the battlefield. There had always been that dread hanging atop his head, the certainty of knowing he would kill them one day. And he had, every single one of them. Except for Jesse and Gabriel. Figuratively.

 

                They had never discussed this, but Jack knew one of the reasons why Jesse hated him so much back then was because there had been zero romantic encounter between the two of them, despite Jesse being charmed off his ass from the beginning. It wasn’t just because Jesse was so young, but it was also because one look and Jack could see himself, his former, foolish self in the cowboy. Brimming with confidence, passionate, full of unrealistic ideals, thinking that he had enough strength to conquer the world. Jesse gave so fiercely he burnt himself in the process. And still, he pressed on.

 

                Jack just couldn’t do it. And, in a sense, he did kill Jesse. Only to kindle his rebirth from the ashes.

 

                Jesse’s bark of laughter, a bit dry, a bit self-deprecating, pulled Jack away from his thoughts, “I don’t blame y’. Gabi is…somethin’ else.” He spoke the last part slowly, carefully, not for Jack but for himself.

 

                When the younger vampire didn’t continue, Jack held back an unnecessary sigh.

 

                “How are you feeling, Jesse?” His tone was kind, but without the fake sweetness always used on his preys. Jesse didn’t need coddling. He needed to sort out the conflicting jumble of thoughts that rushed through his mind, as he always did at times like this. Jack definitely wasn’t his first choice, but without Hanzo here, the elder vampire was the only one Jesse had. Besides, it was only because of Jack’s proposal that had Jesse in this situation. A pang of guilt struck him, atop of everything else that he had done to the poor kid.

 

                “Would be a lie now if I say _ok_ , wouldn’t it?” Jesse huffed, his attempt of staying nonchalant faded away.

 

                It was one of those rare moments, when Jack of all people as at loss of what to do. He wasn’t good with comfort. Jack was good with reasoning, with light banters, with flirting and seducing unwilling subjects. He was good with killing, with striking terror into his foes and displaying his dominance. On occasions, he would be soft, pliant and showing his more insecure sides (still learning on all those parts) to _Gabriel_. Jack only sent out praises and appreciation when the place and time was right.

 

                Comforting someone in pain wasn’t what Jack was good at. For all his gruffness, Gabriel was a million times better than him in that regard.

 

                “No one forces you to be here, Jesse.” Jack’s voice was as gentle as it could get, and immediately winced as they hit his own ears. This wasn’t the best way to go about it, Jack didn’t want to give his broodling the impression that Jesse’s presence wasn’t needed. Jack didn’t want this to devolve into anything worse.

 

                Then again, he didn’t treat Jesse differently out of pity. Jesse McCree had never been that simple.

 

                The younger vampire’s rattled chuckles made Jack’s unbeating heart clench, “Not gonna happen, _pops_. Y’ know better than an’one else that I _need_ t’ do this. An’ it ain’t just f’ me, y’know? Overwatch’s a threat t’ _ev’ryone_. I mean, yeah, I can’t say there ain’t a desire f’ petty revenge, but this goes beyond that.”

 

                There was a familiar fire in his tone, but it soon was snuffed out. Jesse’s took off his hat, running a hand through the tangled mop of his hair. There was a hint of bitterness in laughter, “Han’ didn’t want me t’ go. Ain’t ‘cause he doesn’t care, it’s ‘cause he cares too much. He doesn’t want this shit dredged up. Doesn’t want me getting’ involved wit’ this shit no more. Now, I ain’t the most incognito piece o’ shit in the world. My time in the West wasn’t well-cov’red, I did whatever I wanted t’ ‘cause I was hurt. I shot down not just criminals but hunters that were sent t’ the refugees. Overwatch _knows_ I’m alive. While I ain’t be havin’ as big o’ a bullseye on m’ ass as yours, it’s just a mat’er o’ time before they found me.”

 

                Jesse heaved out a shuddering breath, tugging at his scalp like he wanted to rip out skin. A deep growl rolled in his chest, broken and wounded, “Han’ already refused t’ turn. He ain’t helpless, but he ain’t getting’ an’ youn’er either. I don’t wanna see the same shit happenin’ again, not when I coulda at least give him less things t’ worry ‘bout.”

 

                Jack wasn’t surprised. Jesse must have known it too. But Jesse needed to say it. It stunned Jack a little, however, with how easily it had come out. Perhaps the kid needed an outlet much more than Jack had anticipated.

 

                “Seems like you have made your decision then.”

 

                “Ain’t makin’ it an’ easier, pops.”

 

                It was funny. Jesse had been jesting about calling Jack _that_ from time to time and it always left a mixture of feelings ranging from uncomfortable to mildly pleased. Hearing him saying that now just made Jack understand the magnitude of Jesse’s appreciation towards him. Suddenly, it was Jack who was getting emotional. But he covered that up with a playful sock at Jesse’s shoulder.

 

                “Don’t call me that. Makes me feel old.”

 

                Jesse’s chuckle was still stiff and heavy, but it wasn’t as worry-inducing as before, “Y’ ain’t old. Yer ancient, _pops_.”

 

                Jack laughed a little at the teasing tone. Sobering and feeling a bit lighter, they let silence filled between them for a moment. Jesse’s chuckles died down, and he dragged fingers through the trampled blades of grass beneath him.

 

                “He isn’t going to hate you for this, Jesse.”

 

                “I know. But I’ve never been so faraway from home since, y’know? An’ I don’t like it, leavin’ like that. With Han’…displeased at me. Feels too much like the one time.”

 

                Jesse didn’t need to speak more. Jack knew enough, and he should have predicted it would bring up something unpleasant. The pause this time was pregnant, heaving by as if chained down by lead.

 

                “Would y’ be mad if I say Gabi’s turnin’ got me a lil’ jealous?”

 

                _Ah_. “Of course not.”

 

                Jesse snorted, but there was no malice, “’Course y’ ain’t.” He pulled at the grass, breaking a few strands in his musing, “I guess I wish things woulda gone smoother between us? It ain’t yer fault. Overwatch took me away ‘mediately, I know that now. Can’t stop bein’ put ‘pon ‘bout it though. Learnin’ wit’out so much pain. What kind o’ potential I coulda had. An’, ‘course, it hits a lil’ too close t’ home wit’ what am an’ Han’ are goin’ through.”

 

                The gleam of metal arm under rustling red serape tightened the knot in Jack’s chest. The elder vampire didn’t say anything. Nothing he could say right now would be right. Jesse simply wanted to pour it out and there was no reassurance that Jack could offer him. Not the kind he needed, anyway. Jack wasn’t going to ask Jesse what the kid was going to do about this either, it would just be plain stupid and insensitive.

 

                “I know I am doing a poor job of being supportive. And that I brought this upon you to begin with.” Jack scratched the back of his head, yet another habit that he couldn’t seem to shake, and looked Jesse dead in the eye, “But know that I will always be here to help should you need me.”

 

                The younger vampire blinked, clearly surprised, and ducked his head with a huff, “Y’ don’t need t’ do more, Jack. Y’ did way more than ‘nough when y’ didn’t have t’. It ain’t yer fault t’ begin wit’. Yeah, I was hella pissed at y’, but wit’ time comes understandin’. The world ain’t black an’ white. There ain’t gonna be right or wron’ choices. Y’ did what y’ could. I let go o’ that. Y’ should too.”

 

                Jack’s teeth gnashed together. Fucking Jesse and his ability to make Jack emotional.

 

                But Jesse had a point. Even though the idiot had the completely wrong idea about why Jack wanted to help him.

 

                “I’m not offering to help you because there is some kind of debt between us. Yes, I _do_ still feel guilty about what transpired, but it isn’t the only drive to help you as I have. I do genuinely care for you, Jesse, as a friend, as _family_ , no matter how wonky that definition is to both of us. I want you to know that I am here and I will help you to the best of my abilities, not because of some age-old responsibility, but because I _want_ to. I’ve got your back, Jesse.”

 

                Jack might pride himself with his acute ability to read people, but he hadn’t been able to predict Jesse pulling him into a hug. It was bone-crushing, brief as it was since Jesse broke apart in just a few seconds. The cowboy’s grin was a little sheepish, touched with joy and then just a drop of melancholy. But his mood was brightening and Jack couldn’t be gladder.

 

                “Yer bet’er at this whole dad business than y’d like t’ admit, _pops_.” Jesse stood, dusting himself off to hide the cracks in his voice. He made to leave, but paused after taking one step, and tipped his hat at Jack with a more genuine smile this time, “Thanks, Jack. F’ ev’rythin’.”

 

                Even if there was a lot of things that could go sour with this operation, Jack was glad he at least had done something right.

 

                However, like everything light-hearted, Jack’s feeling of contentment did not last long. Their movement wasn’t the most quiet, with so many powerful beings gathered as one. Overwatch’s first strike team anticipated their route and attacked in the dead of night.

 

                It would have worked much better if ninety percent of the camp needed sleep. Didn’t stop the agents from open-firing at them, though.

 

                The agents were all humans, with the exception of two that had enhanced speed and strength. Jack’s little band of misfits tore through them like a hot knife through butter, the tension and pent-up need for violence left behind little to identify. The bloodbath made Jack winces, even though he and the other two vampires benefited from it.

 

                However, Gabriel was most definitely not pleased, his expression thunderous as he phased across the mass of exploded flesh and blood. There was barely one corpse left intact. Jack knew the thoughts that must have flickered through his mate’s mind at the time, contributing further to his already foul mood.

 

                These could have easily been Gabriel’s friends. Many pieces of their plan would have fallen apart if that had been the case.

 

                “They deserve it.” Fawkes shrugged, a glint of mad glee in his eyes as he toyed with a conjured ball on flame. Gabriel’s growl was feral, but he caught his own temper. Under the scrutinizing gazes of the rest of their allies, Gabriel’s voice lowered into a cold, sharp whisper that had everyone strained to listen.

 

                “This is _not_ a matter of them deserving it or not. By doing this, you are just going to prove that they are _right_ for calling you, _us_ , the bloodthirsty, savage monsters they deem we are. We don’t need to give them more reasons to pretend how righteous they are.”

 

                “Why do ya even care, mate?” Fawkes crackled, “Wah? Gettin’ ya hands lil’ dirty ain’t good for tha pretty master vampire? Get ya head outta ya ass, _new blood_. We are monsters. This is what we do! We main an’ we kill! They should fear us fer what we are!”

 

                For a second there, Gabriel’s eyes glinted red, murderous, and Fawkes grinned at him, cockily, challengingly. But the young vampire merely tipped his head to the side.         

 

                “I suppose, if you put it that way, then none of us is better than Overwatch itself.”

 

                That roused a wave of displeased murmurs. Fawkes’ glare was just as seething as his fire when Gabriel clasped his hands behind his back, regarding the necromancer placidly. Jack bit back a smile. Jesse snickered under his breath. Oil was added to the flame when Fawkes’ lumbering minion, Roadhog, grunted in that unearthly, menacing voice of his.

 

                “Someone finally shut him up.”

 

                Fawkes responded to this with a pyro blast that bounced off the undead minion harmlessly.

 

                Needless to say, things went smoother from then on.

 

                They managed a sort of group dynamic. Jack was the undisputed leader, with Hana and Jesse as his right hands. Gabriel would step in to take charge of the operation as needed, though he did so sparingly. The young vampire was still learning, despite how rapid his advances had become. With so many people around and so many pressing issues now as they were deep within enemy’s territory, he and Jack didn’t have much time to spend alone with each other. It unsettled Jack, but the elder vampire supposed it was just as well, providing him less distraction. The planning had to be precise, especially when they planned to attack Overwatch many bases around the region.

 

                The following operations had more or less satisfied Jack’s demands. There hadn’t been any more unnecessary bloodshed since the first day and their teamwork had been more efficient. Thanks to Jack’s near perfect memory, they knw exactly where Vaswani’s treacherous webs of follower were placed, thus making their initial attack map-outs a lot quicker. They avoided the troops sent out to hunt them and organised assaults in no particular pattern. At this point, both Jack and Gabriel knew Satya Vaswani hadn’t stepped out to orchestrate a retaliation yet. The current soldiers dispatched were strategically placed, yes, but they were still humans with a few occasional exceptions: The so-called _Soldier Enhancement Program_ recruits and sometimes even Overwatch own warry supernatural allies.

 

                This was none of Vaswani’s string-pulling assemble. This was only regular Overwatch’s Council’s usual routines. Like Reinhardt and Ana’s.

 

                Aside from them being Gabriel’s friends, there was a lot more above the surface about those two. Jack knew Ana had been one hair away from becoming Jesse’s first handler, he was there after all. The woman was formidable and was hand-picked by Jack for the role right before he whisked Jesse away under her nose. She knew of his ludicrous existence and had been one of the few Overwatch Commanders to keep a neutral approach to the matter.

 

                Reinhardt and Jack, however, went way back.

 

                The gentleman followed the waning, ancient codes of the legendary Crusaders. He was one of the Order’s few remaining disciples to still walk this earth. Their regulations and laws were far too strict for just anyone to follow and the Order dwindled with their beliefs.

 

                Reinhardt Wilhelm’s Master died before he was granted the last rite to become a full-fledged Crusader. Lost and alone in the world, Reinhardt stumbled across Overwatch. More specifically, Jack Morrison. Jack had hoped, he still did, that Reinhardt’s moral codes would somehow be this one fix to slowly steer Overwatch back to the path Jack had intended it to be. With Jack’s ways around the Council and Reinhardt’s own charisma, the man quickly ascended to a more prominent position within the organization. Jack watched with pride as Reinhardt grew and grew, grizzled with years of combat but with his iron-clad Crusader ways firmly intact.

 

                Reinhardt was someone the recruits looked up to, a shining example of ideals and righteousness. He was everything that the original Overwatch stood for. And he played right into the organization’s ploy of polished image. Jack had never felt so foolish in his life. Realising that he had grown desperate, it resolved Jack into breaking Jesse away from the madness. After running away with Gabriel, Jack _didn’t want_ to think he had to go back to his old plans and revise them. It had been a painful experience.

 

                It was only a matter of time before they would encounter either Ana or Reinhardt, or this child, Lena Oxton, who Gabriel was particularly fond of. Preparations must be carried swiftly.

 

                Jack was not going to lie, he was anxious when Gabriel sent off a coded message to Lena.

 

                “It is something we have played around with when she was younger.” Gabriel explained to him, scribbling down a series of nonsensical doodles that were barely better than a toddles’ handwritings, “Picking her to be my Lieutenant hasn’t be the most conventional action. For a while she was suffering from the naysayers. She has no family and no friend at that point. So we did this, if only to cheer her up a little.”

 

                Jack chuckled, squashing down that silly spec of jealousy in his heart, because Gabriel was _his_ , and he shouldn’t fret when Gabriel directed some of his affection elsewhere. After all, if they talked about envy, Jack’s rather numerous adventures with fleeting lovers would have been a lot more anger-inducing.

 

                “You are a good leader, Gabe.” Jack said instead, placing a kiss at the back of his mate’s neck.

 

                “Fancy the thought sometimes.” Gabriel half-smirked, adding one final touch to the scribbles, “I suppose I can be, but the obligations tire me.”

 

                There was a pause, as Gabriel sealed off the letter, considering his next words absent-mindedly, “After this, we should go somewhere warm.”

               

                Sometimes, Jack wondered why he deserved this man.

 

                Contacting Lena Oxton had been a bold, risky move, but Gabriel was right. They needed to get the innocent out of the fray. Still, Jack worried and insistd to accompany his mate, even if only in the shadows, when they received a response from her. To make it seemed less of a personal matter, Jack enlisted Genji’s help, who had no qualm in watching either of their flank. They were to meet at an inconspicuous clearing, far away from camp and far away from any compromised Overwatch base.

 

                It didn’t mean Jack couldn’t fume a little when the exuberant bundle of hyperactive nerves that was Lena Oxton pounced Gabriel into a hug. With legs and arms winding around the vampire’s exasperated form to boot. Jack had to bite back a snarl as he watched Gabriel patting her back in reassurance and refrained himself from materialising in order to yank Lena off of his mate.

 

                “I thought you were dead, you bastard!!!” Lena cried, rubbing her eyes furiously when she _finally_ dropped away from Gabriel, “Council keeps tellin’ me you’re off on this super long and secretive mission and yeah, I get that you have to go on those sometimes, but even Ana doesn’t know what’s going on and she clearly holds back some info as well and I’m just…!!! Argh!!!”

 

                “ _Cadet_ , calm down.” Gabriel’s tone was stern, though it wasn’t lack of emotions. It bought Lena to a sniffle, but she was less shaken, back straight and huge eyes staring up at Gabriel with so much expectance.

 

                She was in shock during Gabriel’s explanation, horrified when he revealed he was now one of the creatures she hunted, and then quietly accepting when he explained what he had discovered about Overwatch. There was no protest and, despite her show of extreme emotions earlier, Lena’s expression slowly cooled into a more professional façade, though certain thoughts still flickered about her ardent eyes.

 

                “What do you suggest us do, then?” She asked in the end, a frown marred her too-young face.

 

                It was not so easy to reserve such utter loyalty in one person, so much that they would obey without reason. Gabriel might not be able to bring out the best in people at times, but they would sure as hell follow him in life and death. It was something that even Jack had to admire.

 

                “We don’t want people who aren’t involved in this corruption to become casualties.”

 

                That had Lena’s eyebrows furrowed. The woman contemplated Gabriel’s words, but her eyes were determined when she looked up, “It’s a personal issue. I don’t think hiding this away from them would make the matter any better. Having people outside taking care of it is bad enough. We need some major housecleaning and we must do at least some of it on our own. Not gonna be good morally otherwise.”

 

                Jack blinked. Kid had a point. No matter how much he thought of Overwatch as his creation, the people working for it weren’t. Hiding this away from them and taking out the veins of corruption behind their backs, in a sense, would be just as bad as what Vaswani and those before her had been doing. Above all, these men and women deserved the truth instead of being given yet another fake sheen of gold.

 

                Gabriel inclined his head, considering, “Who do you think we can trust?”

 

                It took some more time for Lena to answer this, “I know I’ve been at odds with Ana about your case, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with this. That I’d vouch for with my life. And you know Reinhardt would _explode_ the moment he knows something shady is going on. Too stubborn to believe Overwatch is this rotten, probably, but definitely wouldn’t indulge it. There’s Singh. I know you don’t like him much because of his dumb mouth but…he’s a good man. Mirembe is dependable and there’s...”

 

                Lena continued on, rattling off the names from the top of her head, until Gabriel raised his hand to stop her. The young woman sighed, blowing away a strand of her unruly hair, “I’m just sayin’, boss, I know these people. _You_ know them as well. They don’t have it in them to do…what the higher ups are doing.”

 

                “It will take time to convince them.” Gabriel’s tone was deliberate. Lena exhaled once more, crossing her arms out of mild frustration.

 

                “Yeah, I know, boss. It just…It’s a lot to take in and it’s so damn sudden. I mean, I’ve been suspecting something fishy goin’ on since you got that secret mission thingie, but I never thought it was _this big_.” She made a grand gesture, scowling, “I’ve been trying to dig around, but Ana told me to keep it down, so I’m laying low for the moment. Definitely rings some alarm bells though if ya ask me.”

 

                Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, “Did you draw attention to yourself?”

 

                “It’s unavoidable, boss.” Lena’s shoulders slumped down, looking dejected, “Before your disappearance, you were distracted all the time. I was worried that something happened, but neither you nor Ana wanted to talk. I tried to be as discreet as I could, but you know me…”

 

                Her hands twisted together, face scrunched up in agony. Something on Gabriel’s eyes softened. Big hand ruffled up her hair and Jack’s envy turned into something more along the line of pity as tears gathered around the corners of Lena’s eyes.

 

                “You did your best, kiddo.” Gabriel’s voice was even, but sombre, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

 

                “No, no!” She shook her head furiously under his palm, “Not your fault, boss! It’s not like y’ asked for it, no?”

 

                She paused to wipe her eyes again with a fist, sniffling her emotions away, “I’ll see what I can do. Just gimme a couple of days, yeah?”

 

                Gabriel nodded, taking a step back. But Lena would have none of that. She lungedforwards and gave him another bear-hug, giggling gleefully when the vampire sighed.

 

                “Oh, and.” Lena said as she walked away, throwing a cheeky grin over her shoulder, “Introduce you friends to me next time. Cheers!”

 

                And disappeared behind the trees with a giggle.

 

                “She’s good.” Genji commented, slinging down from the branch he was hiding atop. Gabriel answered this with a snort.

 

                “I did train her personally.” He linked hands with Jack as soon as the elder vampire materialised. But Jack scowled at the direction where Lena went.

 

                It wasn’t her. But there was something in the air. Something light. Something watchful.

 

                “Something is not right.”

 

                Bless Gabriel and his impeccable senses, the younger vampire squeezed his hand right back, “I know.”

 

                The camp narrowly eluded an ambush that night.

 

                Under the cover of Jack’s mist, they moved to a different position whilst Sombra created an illusion that covered the old ground. Less than fifteen minutes later, it was swarmed.

 

                “What the hell are those?!” Hana’s voice was laced with disgust, peering into the shimmering crystal ball the witch had produced. Those who were madly tearing through Sombra’s harmless illusions did not wear the usual pristine, crisp blue-gold uniforms of Overwatch soldiers. These creatures were clad in black, with no emblem stitched on their clothing and all identical except for the bleary crimson numbers on their arms.

 

                “Project: _Soldier 76_.” Gabriel forced the words through his teeth, wisps of smoke flaking off his skin. Jack touched shoulders with his mate, but it had taken every ounce of self-control for him to not shake with anger.

 

                “Vaswani’s pet experiment I have talked about. My blood. Her army.”

 

                These creatures…they were mindless. Movements jerky and shambling. They were violent, ploughing through the illusions Sombra gave them without restrain. They made no sound, blindly attacking the ever appearing images. Their mission was clear: To search and destroy, regardless of the obstacle.

 

                “Take off the spell, Sombra, they might be able to track the magic residue.” Jack said, pinching the bridge of his nose. The shadowy images faded into nonexistence after a few mumbled words. Almost instantly, the undead troop ceased all action. They stood frozen, heads inclining as if listening to an invisible speaker. One by one, they straightened, still as statues, staring off at the same direction.

 

                Lúcio shuddered. Everyone in presence’s expression ranged from disturbed intrigue (Fawkes) to downright mortification (Winston). They all peerws into the crystal ball warily, waiting for something to happen, _anything_.

 

                A blinding light blured the scene into complete whiteness, drawing out a startled screech from Sombra. The crystal ball shattered to a million pieces and the witch crumbled. Jack was immediately by her side, but she waved him away, if not aggressively so.

 

                “That bitch!” Sombra hissed under her breath, the sound cold and venomous. She sat up, hunching with cloak drawn protectively around herself, clutching her mask with a leather-clad hand. A string of whispered, intelligible words escaped the witch as she rambled to her own ears, oddly sounding like ideas were being formed and discarded, more so than curses.

 

                “Well, ain’t that just great?” Fawkes sneered, lighting up his uneven hair, as he always did when caught in an annoyance, “How many of these fuckers do they have? And how the fuck do they control ‘em?”

 

                “Initially there was supposed to be seventy-six of them. Including myself. An elite squad, designed to tackle on more dangerous missions.” Jack answered, his face strategically blank, “Or at least that was what they told me.”

 

                “Ya ain’t stupid enough to believe that, do ya?” The necromancer’s question was dripping with sarcasm. Jack gave him an unimpressed stare. Fawkes rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in exasperation.

 

                “I personally wasn’t supposed to go to battle.” Jack continued, darting his eyes away from Fawkes and tried to no lean too much onto Gabriel, “I was…meant to be the failsafe switch. Should the squad go out of control, they would kill me. As my existence is forfeited, so will theirs.”

 

                “You told us this.” Hana dismissed him impatiently, “One, they can’t be keeping that fail switch anymore knowing that you have run off. Two, if they are afraid of their own creations, so much that they are willing to sacrifice their most valuable weapon, then this…abomination troop isn’t what we should be most concerned about.”

 

                “How much of your abilities do these creatures possess?” Suddenly, Zarya cus in, harsh green eyes still pinned onto the crystal shards littering the ground.

 

                “Enhanced strength and speed. Immunity to non-fatal wounds. They can only be killed by decapitation.”

 

                “The basic stuff, then.” The werewolf noted, the muscles of her thick arms rolling dangerously, “They weren’t expecting those puppets to take us out. That was just a test.”

 

                “A confirmation.” Jack nodded, eyeing Sombra’s looming figure, “Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to war.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said this is going to be the epic conclusion, but it seems like we are having two more chapters to go...
> 
> #rip_nei


	7. And They Would All Go Down Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of unexpected events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been such a long time since I've last updated ; w; Thank you all so much for your overwhelming support, especially some of my dear friends who were so eternally supportive of this series T_T I'm so, so SO grateful for you all, and I hope this chapter has been worth the wait.
> 
> Only one more to go, and I hope you enjoy!

 

                When it came to preparation before a fight, hatred was not a good place to start. It seethed and burned at the edge of rationality, leaving one bursting at the seams and strangely hollow all the same. It clawed just below the tongue and unfurled behind the eyes, a white heat that seared away all other thoughts until only a writhing mess of charred blackness was left.

 

                That was exactly how Gabriel felt upon finding Lena among the dark chambers of Eichenwalde.

 

                He remembered this place, in a different time and a different life. Reinhardt called it a tomb then, where the last of his order fell. Overwatch had been quick to take over the overgrown fortress after. It was a good location, vast halls and even vaster dungeons, a forgotten place in a forgotten corner of the world.

 

                Lena was barely breathing when Gabriel tore off the iron cuffs that keep her bolted to the cold stone walls. If it wasn’t for his enhanced senses, he would have thought she was dead. The snarls rolling forth from his throat only prompted the carved smile on the _bastard_ ’s face to grow wider.

 

                “I see your master has taken no time to turn you into a mindless pet, Mister Reyes.” Sanjay Korpal tipped his head by a fraction, his mask of a face disturbingly emotionless despite the curl of his cruel mouth, “So is the fate of all his handlers.”

 

                The perfect companion for hatred was anger. Wrath also was not a good place to hold one’s footing. Gabriel remembered Jack’s warnings, though it was rather difficult to take precautions now, holding Lena’s tattered body that struggled to hang onto whatever breath she could take.

 

                Korpal wasn’t a simple person. Gabriel had known of him since his earlier days and every time crossed paths before, Vaswani’s right hand man made the vampire’s skin crawl. Unlike Overwatch’s _special associates_ , or Satya herself, Korpal was mortal, with no supernatural asset to his name but a sinister mind to back up the claim sof his position. Above all the monstrosities they could have thrown at Gabriel. Korpal might just be the worst of all.

 

                But Gabriel had never done well with fear. He did not do “ _fear_ ”, not in battle, and certainly not when someone he cared about was dying in his arms.

 

                 Red-tinted brown eyes stared unblinking at the human underneath the dark cowl, glowering like fire from the deepest pits of hell. Yet Korpal was unfazed, even when the bodies of his men were strewn in bloodied heaps just outside of the dungeon, some without barely scrapes of flesh left to identify. He wanted Gabriel right here, consumed in fury and away from Jack. The ploy was the oldest trick in the book. Lena was but bait for Gabriel and _Gabriel_ was the mean to reel in the biggest fish.

 

Jack had been anxious, just before Gabriel went, the scent of sunshine and honey was sharpened to the point of being almost sour, if such a thing is possible. But he was also unrelenting, as with all his meticulous planning, and that was all Gabriel needed.

 

                “Tick-tock, Mister Reyes.” Korpal said, almost amused at all the pooling crimson around them, nauseating with death, and at Lena’s flayed limpness especially.

 

                Hatred flared like a dying sun. Fangs elongated and sunk into pale flesh. There was barely any blood left to spare and Gabriel, in all his lack of hesitation, was shaken for a moment, thinking the venom might just kill her off for good. But a wheeze turned into a more violent cough and Lena’s blue lips gasped open, enough to catch the drips coming from the fingernail-cuts in Gabriel’s palm.

 

                _Black. As black as tar_.

 

               He noted, absent-mindedly so, eyes still burnt holes into Korpal’s placid face. Suddenly, it made senses to him why Jack had made him feed so much before going.

 

               Here, ankle-deep in gore and holding a half-dead body, Gabriel realised that he had never loved the man more.

 

               Gabriel didn’t let that thought stray too far. Distraction was the last thing he needs right now. After, there would be time for mourning. Now, even though his body no longer functioned as a human, Gabriel could almost feel the phantom thrum of adrenaline.

 

                _Stick to the plan_.

 

                The reaction was immediate. Lena writhed in his arms, tormented screams tearing out of her. The sickening sounds of bones snapping back together and the sloshing noises of muscles knitting themselves filled the empty air of the cavernous chamber, twisted in the putrid odour. They grated on Gabriel’s nerves and made his heightened senses stand on edge, yet he kept his face neutral, blocking out the changes. Lena’s already huge brown eyes were unnaturally wide in pain, stained teeth snapping as she yowled. This wasn’t something he hadn’t seen before, even if it was Lena who is being force-turned and it was _Gabriel_ who turned her.

 

                This wasn’t something new, just that Gabriel wouldn’t be putting a bullet into her brain. Still, part of him wished that her turning had been less of an unfortunate event. That he hadn’t had to turn her at all to save her life.

 

                The vampire stood, leisurely, letting Lena go, squirming on the floor as the venom seared through her very core, changing what she was, _had been_. Kid was tough, she could handle herself. Even if it was difficult. There were other, more pressing matters.

 

                Korpal clapped once, the sound just as hollow as his expression, “Bravo, Mister Reyes. You seem to have a lot more gusto than your Master. Shame that we are on different sides of the board.”

 

                Gabriel lunged at him before the last words left his treacherous mouth. Only to fizzle into shadow and recoil away. The young vampire rematerialized, staring at his hand. Some of the skin there had turned ashen, flaked off and didn’t seem to regenerate right. It stung, like he had accidentally touched a boiling pot, but it wasn’t spreading. Gabriel tilted his head and searched with all his senses. The fleeting current of energy crackled, taunting him in a way that was all far too familiar.

 

                A Light Construct separated the two of them, invisible even to Gabriel’s eyes.

 

                “Ah, do you like our new toy, Mister Reyes?” Korpal asked, his monotone more irritating that having to stand atop a nest of fire ants. But his hands shifted and Gabriel, with instinct imprinted marrow-deep, slid aside. Still, there was a stinging sensation on his cheek, the vampire know without looking that there is a grove of similar greyness on his face now and his head would have been cut off if he had been half a second late.

 

                The idea of this being the weapon they would use to subdue Jack was rather insulting. The idea of them testing this on _Gabriel_ was both infuriating and flattering in a sickening way. At least the injuries, _scratches_ , were not poisoned. That wasn’t how light magic works, or so Jack had told him. Korpal’s fingers twitched, sending Gabriel hopping backwards several feet. Picking up the still howling Lena, Gabriel skidded towards at the entrance.

 

                This wasn’t going to be a fight, not the kind that Gabriel actually enjoyed. He pushed Lena outside and bodily blocked the unhinged door. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it if he focused enough. The tendrils of light construct lashed out, pulling themselves thin and stretched from the protective barrier woven around Korpal like a cocoon of destruction. Amidst the blood, the air was crisp with ozone, nauseating in its strange combination and disorientated Gabriel’s sharpened senses to a degree. Centering himself, Gabriel slowly determined Korpal’s reach.

 

                It worried Gabriel a little, because the magic did not feel like it was coming from Korpal. Now, even back in his Hunter days, Gabriel wasn’t the best at pin-pointing magic, just like any regular human. Being a vampire gave him somewhat of an edge, but not enough to find the source. And he simply couldn’t afford to put all his attention into Korpal, not with Lena’s screaming and certainly not with their backs completely exposed.

 

                Essentially, he could run. But Gabriel doubted he would make it far.

 

                One thing for certain, Korpal didn’t want either Gabriel or Lena dead. Jack had proven to be far too much of a danger, a toy that got too out of hand. But Gabriel was what that could be described as a perfect replacement. He was turned by Jack willingly and they knew he inherits many of Jack’s experimented _talents_. Curse their own recklessness of training him in the open, but Gabriel lacked the experience in terms of controlling his own power and Time had not quite been on their side these days. And Lena would be a bonus for Overwatch. There were only two options and they wouldn’t have cared whether she lived or died as long as Gabriel showed up.

 

                But he had been thinking for too long.

 

                A Light tendril lashed out, tearing at his side. Gabriel hissed at the searing pain, backing up further. Korpal was toying with him, wearing him down into submission.

 

                He had no time for games. Gabriel turned, throwing Lena’s twitching form over his shoulder, and ran.

 

                “It is rather unfortunate, no?” Korpal’s voice bounced off the stone walls, chasing after Gabriel’s every step, “You could have been our most successful Commander. Not many has ever managed to tame the Beast himself. You could have done so much good for the organization and the world, Mister Reyes. And yet you throw your lot in with the demons.”

 

                There were a lot of snarky things he could have flipped back, but Gabriel knew Korpal was only trying to provoke a reaction from him. The longer he delayed a comeback, the more frustrated Gabriel would drive that muck stain. So the vampire kept his mouth shut and hastened his footsteps, ignoring Lena’s clawing at his back and the blood that clung to the soles of his boots at every turn.

 

                 Not having memorised this place well, Gabriel ran into plenty of dead-ends and collected plenty more of scrapes from Korpal. He had only been here a handful of times and never stayed for too long. It creeped him out. Or, in Reinhardt’s words, filled with old ghosts. They might have fixed the walls and changed the carpet, but Eichenwalde remained what it was: a memoir of dead ideals.

 

                Lena’s thrashing only made the situation worse.

 

                _Just a little bit more time_.

 

                Gabriel’s feet skipped, pulling himself into a stop just as the floor shattered into a rain of pebbles. The sudden movement flung Lena out of his arms, smacking against the cold stone wall and rolling to the floor. She bounced and twitched like a desperate fish out of water, feeling no more pain than the torment that was scrambling her body from the inside. Gabriel made a move to collect her, but the path was raked before him with Korpal’s invisible power.

 

                They were surrounded.

 

                “Remarkable. It seems like Morrison has yet again lived up to his legendary detachment with his toys.” Korpal voice was impossibly close now, regardless of how long they had been playing cat and mouse within this maze of a relic, “No matter. You would prove to be the finest specimen on hand.”

 

                Gabriel narrowed his eyes, making out Korpal’s shapes behind settling dust.

 

                “You know nothing about Jack.” He spat and made a move to lunge at the figure. Korpal’s emotionless, single chord of laughter was just as cold as the flared ozone around him.

 

                But Gabriel did not move to attack.

 

                A small, circular object came flying out of his hand, flashing a symbol of a decorated skull, and clashed into the lashing Light Construct. It crackled to life, and another figure zapped into existence.

 

                There was no explosion, no impressive light show.

 

                Everything seemed to slow down, snail-paced, and Gabriel finally saw the briefest shift of emotion on his adversary’s façade.

 

                _Fear_.

 

                “Boop.” Sombra’s wolfish grin glinted under her hood, one gloved finger tapped onto the writhing magic tendril almost too gently. The change was instantaneous. Started out like fine spider web, the witch’s spell spread itself in the air around them, exposing the Light Construct and tainted it with darkness in ripples, becoming more and more potent with every pulse. The lightning-struck scent was overwhelmed by a curious mix of yasmin and plum, and the now visible tendrils of light were jerking haphazardly, curling into themselves in anguish. _Decaying_ , in a sense.

 

                “You hid your sources well, little man.” The Shadow Witch hummed, twirling a wisp of magic around her finger playfully before snuffing it out, “But magic is but equations. And equations always have solutions.”

 

                Korpal’s roar was deafening, as he wrangled free one part of the Light Construct, swiping at Sombra blindly. It was lethal, if it managed to catch her. The magic tore off a chunk of the witch’s shapeless cloak instead, breaking the clasp and ripping it off Sombra’s floating form.

 

                Safe to say, Gabriel didn’t expect a witch to dress that brightly. Put Lena in her carnival getups to shame, even. Purple, silver, hot pink with black accents made her sharp tunic, cinched with a belt laden with potions and things Gabriel would rather not know. Long boots were the same scheme, obnoxiously reminded him of the aurora. Finishing her signature look with an elaborated hair style, Sombra was, or at least _looked_ , young, no more older than Gabriel himself, vibrant and cheerful in a way that made Gabriel’s skin crawl.

 

                “Awe, now you broke the charade.” Plump lips pouted, and moulded into a cruel sneer immediately, “Don’t mess with stuff you don’t understand.”

 

                Clawed hands flicked, sending the magic imploding, knocking Korpal several feet backwards and into the rubbles, breaking the enchantment completely. The shout that he made was both satisfying and slightly terrifying to Gabriel’s ears, as Sombra chased after him into the darkness. But the vampire did not stay to watch. Digging out the still twitching Lena, Gabriel threw her over his shoulder and made his way out of the ominous compound.

 

                “It’s okay, kiddo. You’re gonna be safe now. I got you.” He mumbled, knowing very well that she couldn’t hear him at all.

 

                With his strength, it took no time for them to pass the abandoned village and disappear into the surrounding verdant thicket. Gabriel didn’t dare to shadow step with Lena still so unstable, and he could only hope all the jostling wouldn’t worsen her current condition.  

 

                Amidst the silence and endless green surrounding them, the full weight of what he had done settled in. It was numbing, at a lack of better words. As his boots crunched against pebbles and dry earth below, it was somewhat stupid how the only coherent thought Gabriel had was that winter would be here soon. Lena loved winter, despite often vehemently denying so. She loved the rush, the festivities, the warmth one would share with others around the hearth…

 

                Gabriel blew out a non-existent breath. This could have played out differently, but far worse than this current outcome. This was probably for the best. But logic didn’t make it feel any better. Lena’s fate was not Korpal’s to decide, nor was it Gabriel’s either.

 

Gabriel often prided himself for being rational, to not be distracted by fleeting emotions and thoughts. In his line of work, or what he used to do at that matter, solidified resolves were crucial, often the deciding factor between life and death.

 

                In short, Gabriel should have listened to Jack. Even before this incident happened.

 

                They found the chain clutched in one of the shamblers’ hand. The same necklace that Gabriel had gifted Lena years ago. The white glowing stone dangled before his eyes innocently, as if mocking him of his own incompetency. His one moment of weakness, emotionally impulsiveness might have cost them the war they had yet to fight.

 

                “Gabe…”

 

                Jack’s hand on his shoulder then did nothing to soothe the whirlwind of rage, and denied pain, in Gabriel’s chest. The attack was to deliver a message, nothing more. At this point, Gabriel didn’t need Jack’s elaborate explanations to know what Overwatch’s, _Vaswani’s_ , intentions were. And _god damned it_ if they hadn’t played well. It wasn’t just a warning, that what they were planning to do wasn’t as secretive as they wanted it to be, and that Overwatch was well-prepared for any advance. Lena’s capture was on Gabriel’s head, others might have been dragged into this too as far as he knew, and that alone left Gabriel not many choices.

 

                So far, he liked none of them.

 

                Regardless of how obvious it was, going after Lena would be a trap. If the kid wasn’t dead already…

 

                “You won’t be able to live with yourself if you don’t at least try.”

 

                The deadpanned note had Gabriel whirling around, staring at Jack in bewilderment, “I’m not leaving you! Not when shit is about to blow up.”

 

                “I never told you to leave me.”

 

                Gabriel never liked it when Jack spoke like that. Calculative and monotonous, his blue eyes were ice cold as they searched Gabriel’s face for reactions. But his hands slipped into Gabriel’s, and the squeeze that had Lena’s chain digging into his undead skin steeled the younger vampire’s resolves.

 

                Well. Gabriel did try. He just wasn’t sure if he would regret this any less than anything else he could have done. If Lena would forgive him upon waking up, whenever that would be, anyway.

 

                Gabriel didn’t know how long he walked. He stopped caring after Lena’s twitching died down into a slumber-like stillness, with an occasional jerk, as if she was in a dream. Sans a heartbeat and breathing, but he couldn’t afford to dwell on that thought. He kept his mind empty, his steps even, just like Zenyatta had once taught him.

 

                Funny how they had only left Hanamura only less than a month ago, and already it felt like a lifetime. The change of atmosphere certainly was benefactor to this. Sure, they hunted and helped with the clan’s duties, but this… _this_ was a world different. Gabriel didn’t, _couldn’t_ wish things had taken down another route. After all, he was the one so adamant about this operation in the first place. And he had been unswayable, right up until Lena.

 

                Gabriel didn’t even look up when Sombra suddenly appeared out of nowhere, smug and grinning like Lewis Carroll’s cat. Lounging in the air before Gabriel, the witch acted as if there wasn’t an unpleasant odour of singed flesh wafting off of her.

 

                “What a stretch. Doing field work is exciting from time to time, don’t you agree?” The accent rolling off her tongue was thick, distinct with how low she purred. Getting no reaction from Gabriel, Sombra paused, a chuckle building up from her chest, “Oh, do cheer up. We, well, mostly _I_ , just wiped off a whole nest of experiments. Potentially dangerous ones at that. And your little former boss’ puppeteer. This calls for celebrations, not frowny ol’ grumpy.”

 

                Gabriel had no intention to humour her. Decades of doing what he did taught him a thing or two about witches. Foremost was to never trust one. The only reason why he agreed to this in the first place was because of Jack. And Jack trusted her enough to get the job done. That was as far as Gabriel was willing to go. He had no interest in getting any closer.

 

                However.

 

                “Korpal had no magic of his own. What was the source?”

 

                Sombra’s wide grin let Gabriel knew that he was not done regretting his decisions for the day, “Like I said, experiments. Little things. Wild talents that the Construct fed upon and channelled itself through the host that controlled them all.”

 

                It took Gabriel a startling ten seconds to grasp at what the witch just said. Gravels were crushed into dust as he dug his feet, the already chilling air dropped several degrees.

 

                “You…killed _children?!_ ”

 

                Sombra wasn’t fazed. She seemed disinterested, inspecting the sharp claws of her gloves, even though Gabriel could feel her eyes watching under painted lashes, “Oh please, _Gabriel_. Casualties happen in war. Don’t tell me you have any sympathy for those who turned your friend over there into this mess.”

 

                If he had gritted his teeth with more force, they surely would have been ground to dust, “They were used. They had no choice. It was unnecessary to kill them!”

 

                Sombra didn’t answer, not right away. She sized him up, piercing eyes unnerving in their unnatural purplish hue. There was a smirk playing around the corner of her lips, like she could see right through him, could toy with him as she please. It had Gabriel’s hackles rising and his blood (figuratively speaking) boiled. Subconsciously, he clutched Lena just a bit tighter.

 

                Bitch would get one hell of a fight if she was looking for one.

 

                “Didn’t want to believe it at first, but, oh well.” Her mock-sigh was irritating, intended to grate on Gabriel’s nerves more, “You are the reason why Jackie boy went soft.”

 

                That one sentence, along with what she had the galls to do earlier, touched so many sensitive subjects that had taken them, Gabriel and Jack, so long to get over. And yet…physical retaliation would be exactly what Sombra was looking for. Gabriel wasn’t going to give her more reasons to gloat, there were bigger risks here.

 

                “Doesn’t matter what you think.” He shuffled Lena into a more comfortable position before picking up his steps once more, “You are still doing his biddings, are you not?”

 

                It prompted a giggle from her, fake and a little too over the top, sliding dangerously over an edge of threat in her voice, “Like I said, don’t mess with things you don’t understand. You know very little about me. About _him_ , at that matter.”

 

                Gabriel halted his steps. There was silence between them, and he could _smell_ her infuriating triumphant smugness.

 

                “I know enough.”

 

                He didn’t expect her to laugh, haughty, cruel, but with a drop of surprise that her theatrical voice didn’t manage to hide. But it ended any further conversation they could have had, much to Gabriel’s relief. Sombra parted ways with them just after the forest, going to the rendezvous point on her own.

 

They only stopped once on the way, when Lena suddenly sprung on her changing slumber and attacked him blindly out of instinct. Gabriel didn’t make any move to subdue her, knowing that would only further ire the youngling and make her transition more unbearable than it already was. She attacked his shadows, screaming in bestial rage, until succumbing unto the slumber once more. Gabriel didn’t take any more pause afterwards, pushing his pace. There was nothing to keep his mind occupied, and he kept his grief at bay with the thought of having done what must be done, that he had saved Lena and the past was just the past. No going back now. That he could only toughen up and prepare for the future.

 

                Even so, Gabriel’s stubbornness crumbled before Jack’s reaction, upon seeing Lena’s state.

 

                “You turned her.”

 

                The words were simple, spoken far too lightly even, but they dropped Gabriel’s stomach faster than Sombra’s nonchalant admittance of murdering a bunch of kids. The tone was flat almost, and yet cramped with suppressed emotions, some of them Gabriel had no name for, but definitely _haunted_. Jack didn’t sound surprised. Not at all. And that made Gabriel nauseated with himself. Eyes from the crowd watched the exchange, understood what had transpired in his absence, and now waited from the outcome.

 

                “When will she wake?” Gabriel hated himself for asking that, for keeping his tone so even. The numbing feeling returned, freezing his scrambled thoughts into a block of ice that encased his heart. It hurt even more when Jack didn’t look at him, crouching down to inspect Lena out of sheer need to avoid any contact with his mate.

 

                “Depends.” Jack’s voice was crisp, too formal and too unlike him, “Forced procedures are volatile. Can take up to weeks for the changes to fully settle.”

 

                To win the battle against her mortality. Lena had always been a stubborn one, and that had played to make her life harder in more than one occasion.

 

                At that moment, Gabriel wished that he hadn’t seen so much of himself within this kid.

 

                Knowing that there wasn’t much he could say to Jack then that wouldn’t break some kind of boundary, Gabriel turned and walked away into the crowd. It stung, but Gabriel understood he brought it upon himself. Did nothing to quench the simmering emotions that had no outlet for the last couple of days that was alarmingly turning into a twisted kind of rage, though.

 

                So it was almost reasonable when Gabriel almost killed the fucker who dared to grab his arm in the middle of his angry march through camp.

 

                “Whoa, easy there partner.” McCree’s face was less than impressed when Gabriel’s fist came into a screech halt half an inch away from the latter’s nose. Gabriel had an inkling to go through with his punch, but the furrow of McCree’s brows had him hesitated. The fight fizzled out of Gabriel’s veins, and he retracted his hand carefully with a sigh.

 

                “What do you want?”

 

                McCree’s frown eased, but the steel in his eyes didn’t fade, “So I scored this fine bottle o’ scotch th’ other day. Ain’t gonna be tastin’ much shit, but y’ can still feel th’ burn.” He shook the sloshing flask at Gabriel’s face to emphasis, even as an uneasy smile settled beneath his scruff, “Whadyasay, partner?”

 

                It was an obvious ruse. A poorly constructed excuse, but Gabriel didn’t know what possessed him to shrug and follow. McCree’s behaviours were troubling, in his every step and in the way he kept his mouth shut, gaze firmly ahead of them. They were long gone out of sight and earshot, and the continuous silence set memories that were still too fresh ablaze.

 

                “Look, I know I fucked up.” Gabriel was at the end of his already tested patience, his tone was harsher than intended and his glare burning, “Say your piece, then leave me the fuck alone.”

 

                McCree was taken aback. Startled, in better terms. Then his laughter came, nervous and clumsy, and it surprised Gabriel when the cowboy finally spoke.

 

                “Ah…I didn’t mean fer it to seem like I’mma chew y’ out. M’bad, ain’t what I was shootin’ fer.” He ran a hand under his beat-up hat, struggling to piece his words together. It was clear McCree had something important to say, something that weighted on his mind, but he didn’t know how to put it elegantly. He might be Jack’s _broodling_ and Hanzo’s mate, but Jesse had none of both men’s finesse when it came to communication. And Gabriel would never admit it, but he found just a tad of petty satisfaction, watching McCree fumble.

 

                “You shouldn’t be beatin’ y’self up over this.”

 

                That swept the rug right out underneath Gabriel, and it was his turn to be at a loss for word. McCree didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he looked conflicted, and he kept ruffling up his already unkempt hair, “This…happened. T’ me. T’ Jack. Y’ might not see it right now, but th’ parallel’s uncanny. N’ it digs up a lot o’ shit that was s’posed t’ be resolved ages ago.”

 

                …Of course. How could Gabriel have been so _blind?_

 

                “Jack…ain’t mad at ya. That much I can say fer sure. Now, I don’t know lil’ miss over there, n’ I can’t speak fer her, but I know y’re expectin’ th’ worst. N’ Jack…Jack doesn’t want y’ t’ have t’ go down th’ same route as _we_ did. Not ‘nother century o’ grudge n’ regrets. One way or ‘nother, I’m bettin’ he’s back there blamin’ himself all over ‘gain. That somehow, in some screwed up corner o’ his logic, _he_ has set up this very outcome. A repetition o’ what he’s done that now’s reflectin’ on y’ just ‘cause y’re t’gether .”

 

                That both made no sense and perfect sense, because no matter the efforts and progress they made over Jack’s case, he was still a self-sacrificing, self-deprecating _moron_. 

 

                Gabriel swept a hand down his face, and took a moment to just think about how ridiculous this situation was.

 

                “He doesn’t want Lena to hate me as you once hated him, does he?”

 

                McCree blew out a breath, half-chuckle and half-choke, “Aye.”

 

                Gabriel guessed that in his own emotional mess, he didn’t realise that this could turn out a lot more different from Jack and Jesse’s story. Subconsciously, the possible tragedy was what had him so stumped. Without him acknowledging it, Gabriel had already compared this event with Jack’s, already had feared the outcome.

 

                But Jack and McCree’s positions were a world away from Gabriel and Lena’s, and so were their choices. It wasn’t going to make anything less painful, Gabriel wasn’t foolish enough to believe so, but at least he could make it less disastrous. Didn’t mean Lena might not hate him when she woke up, but at least Gabriel had heard enough about Jack’s experience to not make the same mistakes. Not exactly a cheery thought, but it was something needed to balance out his inner turmoil.

 

                “Why does this vampire shit has to always be so complicated? You are supposed to be cold-blooded killers, not all playing in a drama.” Gabriel grunted, prompting McCree to laugh again, amusement lacing with bitterness in his voice.

 

                “Y’ tell me.”

 

                Silence became awkward then. The brief conversation gave Gabriel a lot to think about, and he wasn’t dumb. It impacted on McCree as well, given the recent shifts in his life, and the pain cracked through the cowboy’s failed stoicism. Gabriel left him be then, knowing that there wasn’t much he could do for McCree, and returned to camp, with his respect towards the bumbling fool rising just a bit higher.

 

For the most part, Gabriel didn’t waste his time brooding. Knowing Jack wasn’t up to see him, the former Hunter went to find Hana, wanting to have her filling in what he missed the last couple of days. The stupid fox was mildly surprised that he came back in one piece.

 

                “Honestly? Trusting Jack’s mastermind aside, I thought he finally went bonkers when he sent you there.” She sized Gabriel up with raised brows, “Didn’t think his pocket witch was that good or you were still that lucky after all the bullshit you pulled.”

 

                Gabriel snorted, slightly agitated because she was right and he didn’t want to admit it. Korpal was by no mean harmless, he was selected to be Vaswani’s second in command for a reason. Rumours had it the man used to be her mentor as well, grooming Vaswani to be the perfect leader for Overwatch. By Jack’s arrangements or not, they lucked the fuck out there. Overwatch was being arrogant. The trap was blatant in nature, their intention clear from the start and they _knew_ Jack wasn’t going to show because of that. They disregarded the possibility of Gabriel taking someone else with him, despite knowing Jack was amassing himself figures that were not to be considered lightly.

 

                Something was not quite right…

 

                “You are having a paranoid face.” Hana observed, looking smug when Gabriel glared at her.

 

                “You would know.”

 

                “Of course. We kumiho do have a reputation for scheming and making more of a situation, after all.” Her lips curved, somewhat disgusted, “We are especially sensitive to… _fishy things_.”

 

                Sometimes, Gabriel didn’t know whether he was fond of or hated this fox. She merely grinned at him, flashing fangs and all. After a semi staring contest, Gabriel gave in, albeit begrudgingly so.

 

                “I don’t trust the witch.”

 

                “Good, you should never trust witches.” Hana’s response was nonchalant, but her eyes went sharp, and her tails twitched beneath layers of luxurious silk, “Did you check the bodies?”

 

                “…No.” He admitted, feeling foolish, “Lena needed to be out of there. But she did smell of burnt flesh when she came out.”

 

                Of course, the kumiho was quick to dismiss him, disdain heavy in her voice, “She is an illusionist. A trick of the senses would be child’s play.”

 

                Gabriel’s eyes narrowed, “You think she might be playing double agent?”

 

                “She gave us no reason to not doubt her.” Hana shrugged, paused to pout at the ground, then added, “None of the others did, at that matter. Asides from Lucio, Jamie and the buff werewolf lady, I don’t trust any of the newcomers.”

 

                Gabriel raised a brow at her. Hana glared at him, in all her angry-spoiled-brat glory, “Jamie is a moron. Genius in his craft, but straight up moronic in the way he barges into everything head-first. Lucio’s case is obvious and I’ve always said werewolves have issues with how iron-clad their pack honour code is. Bunch of pretentious, brutish _puppies_.”

 

                Now that was interesting, “You seem to have very strong opinions about them.”

 

                Hana _snorted_ , “Canines. We have identity problems, just like your vampiric dramas. _Get over it._ ”

 

                It would have been too easy to ire her further, but they sank into a mutual silence instead, gears turning in their heads. Even though Gabriel couldn’t claim he knew much about Hana, he knew they were going down the same train of thoughts. Details, habits, words spoken,…matching and discarding theories, events and possibilities. They hadn’t much to base off on, but the seeds were sown. While he was fully capable, Gabriel felt a lot more at ease having an extra pair of eyes, magical ones at that, watching his back. There were a lot at risk here, and he wasn’t going to repeat his carelessness. And this one tick was only a grain in a sea of what he should be looking out for. His other friends in Overwatch, for example.

 

                If his image wasn’t frozen in time, Gabriel was sure his entire scalp would be snow white by now.

 

                “Well, for what it’s worth…” Hana suddenly spoke, with a light smile dancing on her lips that made her look both like the mirage of a teenage girl she preferred, and the soul of an ancient woman she was, “At least you don’t blindly place your faith in someone just because someone you love does.”

 

                It brought a chuckle to Gabriel, tired, yet amused, “He might be smart and powerful, but even he makes mistakes. And, for someone like him, mistakes often results in terrible consequences. That’s where I come in, I suppose.”

 

                Hana smirked, “To clean up his mess?”

 

                “Nah. To remind him that he is only human.”

 

                The look in Hana’s eyes would be one that Gabriel would never come to forget, in spite of how many centuries he would later walk through.

 

                Gabriel left her there then, feeling slightly embarrassed all the sudden. Perhaps he should get someone else to fill him in. There had been enough emotional talks for the day.

 

                They hadn’t accomplished much. During Gabriel’s absence, the others had encountered more shamblers. Their attack on an outpost, both to test Overwatch’s strength and to somewhat draw attention away from the side mission, was met with little to no resistant. Except for a few individuals, everyone was on edge. It was just as unusual as Gabriel’s ground-breaking success (or so to speak) and it made him even more paranoid than ever. This was so unlike the Overwatch he knew and had worked for. If anything, they were aggressive, unmovable and ruthless when challenged. Traumatised or not, Jack must have noticed too. And the asshole was probably planning something that he wasn’t inclined to share, as per usual.

 

                Initially, the plan was to prod at all Overwatch bases. The goal was to provoke and draw out the heavy hitters. They knew full-well that, despite her arrogance, Vaswani was far too smart to stay put with them posing a threat. Rumours of their sightings would be spreading like wildfire by now, reports from commoners and low-ranked officers overflowing. Overwatch simply _must_ take actions. And they did, with Korpal and the attempt to capture Gabriel. He and Jack were assets, tools and investments that were potentially beneficial to the organization. It was established that Overwatch wanted the two of them alive and they would try to achieve this as quietly as possible.

 

                Korpal’s mission was botched, and while this could be counted as a victory on their part, Gabriel just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and he knew Jack must be thinking the same. And the younger realised that with how quickly everything was progressing, he had to confront Jack about this, regardless of how the idiot was feeling about his actions.

 

                They were due to move again on the next day. Genji, bless his soul (literally), volunteered to carry Lena. That would keep Gabriel’s hands and mind free, and that should at least let him have a word in with Jack on the way. Not ideal for a conversation, by any mean, but the others would be occupied. They travelled in smaller packs to avoid unwanted attention, but still close enough to aid one another should the need arose. Most importantly, Sombra would be out of earshot.

 

Upon returning, Gabriel found that she was back to her silent, inconspicuous façade once more. What she had displayed during their brief teaming, if one could call it so, was a far cry from what she showed the others, and that alone was alarming. At least Hana would be keeping an eye on the witch.

 

                And yet, with that one nagging issue partially taken care of, there was still a lot left in the dark.

 

                “Are you not going to talk to me?”

 

                The question had Jack blinking, and he stared at Gabriel for a moment, blue gaze distant. Jack was distracted, a display of vulnerability. It was not a good sign and the pang of guild was a sucker punch right to Gabriel’s gut. Jack didn’t answer him, and it was clear his mind still was elsewhere.

 

                Something within Gabriel churned, and he asked again to hide his uneasiness, grousing voice much softer, “Jack. We need to talk. There’s something going on here and I don’t like it.”

 

                Jack broke their eye contact then, going beyond the evergreens that whizzed pass their sprint, “…Nothing has changed. Just follow the plan.”

 

                Gabriel should have known better to be surprised. If not a little hurt. It was difficult to break many of Jack’s habits, and keeping things to himself proved to be the hardest. Of course, his reaction did not go unnoticed, even if Jack was yet to give up his distance.

 

                “Do you not trust me anymore?”

 

                Gabriel skidded to a stop, yanking Jack’s arm with him. Genji, not expecting the sudden pause, zipped right pass them. But with one look at Gabriel, the younger Shimada got the point. Without a word, he moved on with Lena wrapped around his back. And Gabriel waited, until Genji’s soundless footsteps became non-existent, before forcing Jack’s chin up, growling.

 

                “Don’t you _dare_ ask me that question.”

 

                The ferocity in his voice was like a slap to Jack’s face. But with how fast and terrible the past few days had been, Gabriel was far pass the point of regret. Gripping the blonde’s stubbornly closed fist, Gabriel pressed it against his chest and held tight. He was well aware that if Jack had wanted to, he would have been face-flat on the ground with more broken bones than he could count. But Jack didn’t pull away, nor did he fight back. He went rigid, blue eyes blazing beneath sun-kissed hair, and that alone made Gabriel’s heart swell, despite also wanting very much to beat the dumbass up at the same time.

 

                Dark hand rested against perfectly chiselled jaw, fingertips carefully caressed tuffs of feather-soft hair, “It’s not your fault.”

 

                Muscles clenched beneath his touch, white fangs flashed under pale lips. For a moment there, Gabriel thought that Jack would surely snap at him. The struggle to maintain his control was transparent and brutal, and Gabriel watched this with a dreaded calmness, until he couldn’t keep silent anymore.

 

                “This is not the time or the place for sentiments. And yes, you may throw this back at my face as many time as you’d like in the future, but Jack. _Listen to me_.” Both Gabriel’s hands framed his mate’s face now, pulling him so close the tip of their noses brushed, “You need to clear your head. After all of this is done, we can talk about how much of an idiot I have been and how you can insist on cleaning up my mess. But now it’s not the time. They need you, _I_ need you, to get your shit together. We can’t do this without your head one hundred percent in the game.”

 

                Jack tensed after every word spoken, his fist a steel knob against Gabriel’s chest.

 

                And, just like that, Jack’s strings were cut. He slumped down, burying his face against the crook of Gabriel’s neck, “…I am being a child again, aren’t I?”

 

                A breathless chuckle escaped Gabriel, relieved and somewhat proud, as he wrapped his arms around Jack’s shoulders, “Just goes to show how senile people can act like kids sometimes.”

 

                The punch was probably well-deserved and Jack’s laughter, even though still hadn’t quite lost that edge, brought a grin to Gabriel’s lips as he kissed Jack’s golden crown. Sliced out from the present dark mass surrounding them, this, hidden among the trees and acting so gracelessly given their statures, was what they needed. To remind them that they still had each other, still deserved the happiness they had fought so hard for. Even if it was just for a moment…

 

                “But I’m serious, Gabe.” Jack finally parted, hands either side of Gabriel’s waist, eyes bright under the sun, “Nothing has changed. If anything, we are closer to the end than we thought.”

 

                Gabriel had questions. Many of them in fact. But seeing the conviction in Jack’s eyes eased him some. After all, even if unofficial, Jack was his leader. Gabriel would keep an eye out regardless, but he would not argue any further.

 

                Because who else would he trust if not Jack Morrison?

 

                “Ah, _c’est l’amour_. How touching.”

 

                _God.fucking.damnit_.

 

                The voice was unfamiliar, nasal and harsh, like nails on chalkboard.

 

                Jack’s reaction to this was the second unexpected event. In spite of Gabriel’s immediate defensive stance, smoke-pouring, fangs-popping and all, the elder vampire was a complete picture of tranquillity.

 

                “I did not know you have enough emotions left to feel touched, Lacroix.” Arms crossed behind his back, Jack’s mask was blasé, with nothing left of his exposes just a split second ago.

 

                Gabriel was _almost_ envious of this skill.

 

                Humourless chortles rattled the forest, freezing the air around them and making shadows all the darker, “I see your wits have not diminished despite having such… _interesting company_.”

 

                   “And you still have such high opinions of yourself.” Jack drawled lazily, unfazed. The scent of sunshine and honey wafted through the air, sweet and intoxicating, a clear warning to their lurking enemy, “Have the years gotten to your head? Do you seriously think you can take on us by yourself?”

 

                “Now, now…We haven’t met for decades, and the first thing you do is throwing insults and accusations? How rude, mon cher. Where are your manners? Is chivalry truly dead?”

 

                They were compromised. Nobody should know the route they were going to take. There was no use calling out for the others. Jack’s scent and usage of power were agreed upon as the alarm. The group that was supposed to be closest to them was led by Zarya. There was no way in hell the werewolf couldn’t have picked it up, this close to the source. The atmosphere around them was tampered with somehow, evident in the way Gabriel could only smell himself and Jack. And he had a pretty good guess as to who was responsible.

 

                Mist arose from around Jack, seeping out of his fingertips and coiled with the frigid air. His coat billowed, elegant and deadly, blotching out the growing shadows, “There is no rule against being impolite with your assassin, I’m afraid.” Something hissed in the trees, making the leaves quiver. Jack stood straighter, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, his stare unwavering into the darkness beyond, “Don’t play coy, Lacroix. You hold no power here.”

 

                The chuckle was a caress of teeth and nails, raising Gabriel’s flesh as it echoed, “Ah, but the more I play, the sweeter your blood will become. Especially that toy of yours...”

 

                Jack’s rumbling growl was met with a sudden barrage of webs, shooting out from the imposing trees and embedded themselves where the two vampires were standing moments ago. Gabriel dissolved into smoke and Jack drifted above him, dodging the rapid barrage of spider silk that weaved together faster than the eye could see. A hazy, purplish fume wafted off of every string, clouding their air with its sickening sweet perfume, a poison that was no doubt lethal to human.

 

                “Break the webbing. Do not let her finish weaving!” Jack manifested spikes from his own shadow, severing the deceptively delicate strands. Gabriel wasn’t late to follow, albeit with some difficulties as he had yet to master all his powers yet. He resolved to use his guns instead, unleashing a hail of bullets at the spider silk.

 

                “What’s the matter, Morrison? Afraid?” The disembodied voice was taunting in her nasal voice, smug and purring as she watched.

 

                “Not sure why you asked. You’re the one hiding.” Gabriel grunted, and vaporised just before a string viciously shot through where his head had been.

 

                “Quite a mouth on you there.” Her chortle was grating, sounding more like teeth gnashing together, “Then again, Morrison has always had a particular taste in his conquests.”

 

                “Why does you and _everyone else_ have to bring this up every single time?” Gabriel groaned, both unimpressed and fed up, “Is he _so_ perfect otherwise, you have nothing else but his sleeping history to goad us with?”

 

                That actually brought out a genuine laughter from Jack, somewhat surprised in his amusement. There was a sneer in the spider’s voice now, full of sadistic malice.

 

                “Laugh it off all you want, but know that he will discard of you when time comes.”

 

                “Sounds like somebody speaks from personal experience.”

 

                …In all manner of speaking, Gabriel’s sass would be the death of him someday. There was no dramatic screech or ultimate reveal. The spider went still, a deathly silence that inlaid the cold marrow-deep. But the swirling energy picked up around them, rattling the very earth beneath and darkening the once clear sky above.

 

                “Well, shit.”

 

                Jack sighed at his deadpanned statement.

 

                If the spider web was quick before, now all was a blur, forcing Gabriel to stay in his wraith form indefinitely and Jack to dissolve into mist. The weaving was faster than they could disrupt, rapidly building into completion. Gabriel didn’t exactly have an idea of what she was capable of, but it couldn’t be anything good.

 

                “ _Enough._ ”

 

                Jack suddenly reformed above it all, white coat almost glowed in the suffocating darkness, before morphing once more. Bats, translucent and pearly, flocked from the trees, ravaging the silken construct in their whirlwind of teeth and wings. Woods creaked and groaned before Jack’s destructive path, cleaving the forest apart and, with it, the carefully threaded illusion. The midday sun broke through the haze, burning away the last of the spider’s venom, leaving her exposed.

 

                Amelie Lacroix was every bit regal as a Countess, standing there in clothing so sharp they could cut glass and golden glare so full of fuming hatred it would make the bravest men cower in fear. It was out of the question how beautiful she was, with midnight hair, build of pure perfection and a seductive twist of the lips that was still irresistible even though pale face was full of contempt now.

 

                The bats did not cease their attacks, regrouping and swooping down for Lacroix. She was prepared this time, however. Nimble to the point it seemed like she had no bone in her body, the Spider Woman flipped and dashed, unleashing a barrage of poisonous spikes as she dodged both Jack’s and Gabriel’s assaults. The chittering creatures turned into puffs of smoke upon impact, and Gabriel’s bullets were as effective as raindrops. Lacroix obviously didn’t manage to avoid all of the damage, but none even remotely fazed her. Bullets and wounds were sucked back into her body in a seething black mass, leaving both herself and her clothes pristine.

 

                Now that was just unpleasant to watch.

 

                Jack returned to his humanoid form once more, freezing his mist into icicles and fired them at Lacroix all at once. There was a noise akin to wet snapping bones as her arm elongated, swiping the deadly missiles and breaking most of them, but not before a good amount embedded themselves into her legs, pinning the spider to the ground. It was a garish sight. Purple and black liquid oozed out, leaving the earth and grass charred on contact.

 

                Gabriel didn’t stop to watch, aiming both his guns right between her eyes. They were deflected instantly and, in retaliation, Lacroix shot out a hail of spines. Cursing, Gabriel dissolved into smoke, letting the spikes passing through him harmlessly. However, the attack was only a ruse to draw their attention elsewhere, as a loose web string came to life, wrapping itself around Jack’s leg and yanked him down from his position.

 

                It seemed to be the oldest trick in the book. It would have been child’s play for Jack to escape. But the rest of Lacroix’s severed web strings sprung to life, latching onto the vampire like tentacles. Jack tried to shift, but the webs emitted its toxin again, coiling around his mist and rendered him paralysed in place. Realising what was going on, Gabriel snarled, turning to his mate’s aid, shooting and ripping away spider silk before his path.

 

                Behind them, Lacroix used the opportunity to reconstruct herself in a sickening display, “You are soft. Weak.” Words were forced through her clenched teeth, golden eyes eerily reminded Gabriel of witch fire pits, “For all that you did, all that you have become, you always will be just a filthy, naïve _human_.”

 

                The world seemed to go still then, in spite of all their struggles. And Jack smiled, beaming in a way that would make the sun itself jealous, “Thank you. _Now._ ”

 

                A bullet whizzed through the trees. It pierced clean through Lacroix’s blocking arm and went straight into her heart. The Spider Woman went down with a thud, silenced and unmoving.

 

                It only took half a moment of utter shock for Gabriel to move again, prying away the strands that held his mate entangled. Jack was slack, but he assured Gabriel that he was alright, just “disoriented”. And then, to the trees, “You’re late.”

 

                With everything that had been going on, Gabriel should have known better to get surprised anymore. Casually, out came _Ana Amari_ , sniper still smoking, “Blame your courier. You lot need to learn to stop speaking in riddles. And you.” Flicking her chin at Gabriel, “Close your mouth. I am not the one who decided to elope with a vampire out of the blue.”

 

                Gabriel snapped his jaws shut, trying to hide his shock (and embarrassment) by adjusting Jack in his arms, “Still sore about that, huh?”

 

                “Not as much as you probably are.” Giving them both a pointed look. Gabriel groaned. Jack chuckled, shamelessly. Without even asking, Gabriel just knew Jack had had this all planned out. Some details still needed explanation, but for now he was content to keep his head from exploding. Besides, the rapid clicking noises behind them did not bode well.

 

                The illusion was broken. The beautiful image was now grotesque, towering with eight spiny legs and a pulsating, bloated abdomen. Her perfect lilac face was veined with cracked lines, chipping away like shattered porcelain as she hissed at them.

 

                “I almost feel something. Let’s try that ag-“

 

                Her sentence was cut off by a booming, _familiar_ laughter and a blurry, hulking figure came charging out from the trees, bashing Lacroix right in the middle with a massive shield. The spider went crashing in the opposite direction, and in her place was a man, clad in shining armours and wielding great weapons, proportioned to his size.

 

                “Again! _Again!!_ ” Reinhardt’s excitement could not be contained, hammer clanging against shield.

 

                Perhaps it was a belated thought, but Gabriel could use a vacation right about now. And Jack had the gall to look apologetic.

 

                “You know what, don’t answer me.”

 

                Ana, of course, had to butt in as per usual, “We won’t. This is far from over.”

 

                As on cue, the forest rumbled. Lacroix had risen once more, thoroughly pissed. And, with her, a legion of both shamblers and Overwatch agents, uniformed in pristine blue and white. Gabriel was obviously not impressed.

 

                “Where the hell did these come from?!”

 

                “That does not concern me, but it does not mean we should not respond in kind.”

 

                That was Hanzo. And McCree clinging to him like an overly emotional puppy. And what looked like the rest of the group mixed in with the Shimada army and _other_ Overwatch agents. Haughtily, the shaman regarded Gabriel’s dumbstruck face with a sniff, “We do not go to war unprepared, Mister Reyes.”

 

                Gabriel wasn’t sure if there was a response he could come up with then. He wasn’t sure which side had started it first.

 

                All he knew, that here, in the middle of a nameless patch of land, on the first day of a European winter, two mismatched armies went to war.

 

               

 

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realise that there is a change of writing style. I will update the past chapters as soon as I have the time to as they are going under heavy editing at the moment!  
> Cheers and have a happy new year everyone!


	8. Insurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The epic conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks! THIS IS IT!!! MY FIRST TIME FINISHING WRITING ANYTHING LONGER THAN 5 CHAPTERS!!! Whew! I hope you guys enjoy the story so far, and I hope that the ending is satisfactory for you :) Thanks to all my friends who encouraged me to finish this fic, otherwise I'd have dropped it just like all the others before >.>;;;
> 
> Lots of love <3

* * *

 

                Gabriel couldn’t recall much about what happened. Bodies and magic alike clashed together in a writhing heap, all swallowed up in the teeth-grinding sounds of battle. The ground was ravaged, and he couldn’t tell friend’s to foe’s body. In the middle of all this, Jack and Lacroix wove around themselves a vortex of destruction, a blatant display of powers.

 

                Frankly, Gabriel was impressed. Even after having taken such a beating, the Spider-woman still had more than enough in her to dish out the punishment. She went toe-to-toe with Jack, a feat that Gabriel had not seen anyone pulled off. However, Gabriel couldn’t afford to stand there and gawk like an idiot. On one side, he had Hanzo raking through the enemies with his spirit dragons, on the other Zarya was thrashing in full wolf form, a massive white beast with tuffs of blue-pink feathers woven onto her raised hackles.

 

                It was a different feeling from what he was used to. Gabriel had experienced so many thrills of the hunt in his lifetime. But this…this was calmer, almost. Like he was watching from afar, and controlling his body through carefully tugged strings. Practices against Jack and Jesse couldn’t be compared. This was a new experience, a full-scaled battle that nothing from his previous life could match.

 

                And Gabriel loved it.

 

                 “She is powerful. I didn’t know a jorogumo can pull off half the things she did.” He remarked, snapping the neck off of an Overwatch loyalist and moving on to the next. Hana snorted beside him, swats of silk billowed around her, leaving behind only a chopped up, bloodied mess. Briefly, Gabriel wondered why the fox hadn’t turned into her yokai form.

 

                “ _Widowmaker_ is one of Vaswani’s prized possession after all.” There was disgust in Hana’s voice, “Like Jack, they experimented a ton on her. Magic and modern technology make _wonders_ , as you can see.”

 

                Gabriel raised an eyebrow. They were then separated by a shamble, ravenously snapping its jaws at them. Both took one of the puppet’s arms, ripping them off like putty before Gabriel ended its miserable existence with a deafening shot. The vampire clicked his tongue, mildly annoyed. He was almost running out of ammo. Ah, well.

 

                “Aren’t you informative?” He continued their conversation as if nothing happened, dodging a stray bullet as they pushed on. Hana was indignant.

 

                “Look, _pretty boy_ , Jackie has his source and I have mine. After all,” Shredded up an unfortunate agent, “I didn’t live as long as I have to be as unexperienced as _I look_.”

 

                Made sense. Still, Gabriel had to smirk, “Nice to be called so for once, instead of that being directed at Jack.”

 

                The fox’s glare was sour, “For a rookie, you’re pretty calm for this kind of situation.”

 

                He shrugged, neatly dodging a row of bullets and firing back far more accurately, “What can I say? I adapt quick.”

 

                Muttering something under her breath, Hana ripped apart another one of her victim before leaving Gabriel’s side, apparently fed up with his attitudes. It gave the young vampire a chuckle, though his amusement soon turned into annoyance. Clocking the nearest lunging shambler in the head with his shotgun, Gabriel phased into black smoke and hovered across the sea of blood. Something curled in the pit of his stomach, something both ugly and satisfying, and it made a pleasant, humming ripple throughout his body, kill after kill. With a somewhat morbid fascination, Gabriel realised he might just have enjoyed this far more than he should have.

 

                Teeth, smoke and claws tore through the mass below, passing Jesse and Hanzo fighting back-to-back, Ana’s cold meticulous shootings, Jamison’s and his minion’s loud, destructive path, Reinhardt’s even _louder_ carnage, and towards Jack. Despite in the midst of battle, his beloved still possessed every ounce of deadly grace Gabriel knew and loved. Even as he took a particularly hard swing from Lacroix and fell, Jack’s aesthetic could rival a swan’s, and landed in Gabriel’s arms like he had intended to do so in the first place.

 

                Perhaps he might have.

 

                “No time to flirt, sunshine.” Gabriel grunted, catching a glint of Jack’s smirk. They touched ground in a rush of dark smoke, billowing like fine silk in the wind. Unnecessary, probably, but Gabriel had started to enjoy this… _vampiric flare_ a little more than he should have.

 

                “There’s a time and a place for everything.” Jack mocked, brushing a kiss at Gabriel’s temple. They split once more to avoid Lacroix’s violent lashing, the dying light above making her damaged flesh appear even more grotesque. Still, though slow due to the ongoing combat, she was regenerating.

 

                “How are we going to take her down?”

 

                It was less than a fraction of a second, but uncertainty flashed across Jack’s too-blue eyes. Gabriel fought back the urge to groan and punch the idiot.

 

                “ _Time and place_.” He drawled, starting to sprout the same sour look Hana was wearing earlier. _Maybe_ that witch was right in some regards. Maybe Gabriel was bad influence on Jack. Then again, Gabriel had never quite been this soft himself. Maybe being all gooey-lovey-dovey was bad on both of their supposed predatory natures.

 

                Speaking of which, where the fuck was Sombra? And, in the same breath, where the fuck were _Genji and Lena?_

 

                Gabriel sudden distraction had a cost. With a snapping dry crack, he collided against and went through a tree. But that wasn’t the cause for his sudden case of cold sweat. Howling, Jack dove into Lacroix with renewed vigour and rage, giving Gabriel the luxury to chance a glance around. But Gabriel knew even before he looked, that the hooded shadow was nowhere in sight. So were the familiar zip of white armour and brilliant green wisps. He couldn’t rely on his other senses either. The scent of blood and death clogged the area, and the noises literally had the dead walking.

 

                Battle haze evaporated, Gabriel snapped around and charged pass a startled Jack. He tore into and away one of Lacroix’s gnarled legs with a beastly strength he didn’t know he had. This turn of event seemed to surprise Widowmaker herself, leaving her open to Jack’s followed attack. Stumbling, she lashed out with venomous spines and gas, forcing the two vampires to keep their distance. She spun again, this time building a cocoon around herself. Armoured legs clicked against each other, moving much faster than they should have. The silk completely encased Lacroix before neither Jack nor Gabriel could reach her, impervious to their attempted assaults. The muffled sounds escaping her make-shift fortress was crunching and sickeningly wet at the same time. Disgusted, Gabriel watched as their adversary emerged just as quickly as she disappeared, fully recovered.

 

                “This isn’t going anywhere! We need to take her down _now!_ ” He snapped in frustration. And perhaps, if Gabriel was ever willing to admit, with a sliver of fear. Damn it! He was a fool!

 

                Smoke poured forth from Gabriel’s entire being, not quite making him intangible, but reshaped his body. Razor-sharp talons protruded, fangs elongated and jaws popped. Gabriel could tell his entire face was deforming, growing further away from his normal attractive visage and into a monster his kind was often depicted in tales of old. To tell the truth, Gabriel didn’t exactly know he was capable of _this_.

 

                Impatience could lead to strange discoveries. And so could fear.

 

                The growl tore from his throat was distorted, eerie like white noises. Gabriel lunged, taking Lacroix tumbling down into a heap of rustling smoke and snapping strings. Faintly, Gabriel heard Jack’s yelling, but he ignored it. His smoke wrapped itself around Lacroix’s many legs, breaking them as he forced himself through towards her soft abdomen.

 

                Big mistake. Delicate as they were, Widowmaker’s arms packed quite a punch as they shot out to defend her. Gabriel stopped just enough to block one, but the other pierced through his arm and pushed it back into his own shoulder. In his physical state, it wouldn’t leave any permanent damage. The downside? It hurt ten times over.

 

                Too stubborn to scream, Gabriel heard his teeth cracked under the pressure. Stuck like fish on a pike, he flailed, knowing that Lacroix’s legs were closing in, ready to tear him apart. Instead, a cold rush whisked him away. Jack engulfed Gabriel, smoke and all, and yanked the latter out of the spider’s grasp. Certainly wasn’t the best experience, but much more preferable than being obliterated. Bones sprung back into places and skin knitted itself together. Gabriel allowed himself a groan, rolling in the dirt and out of Jack’s arms.

 

                Gabriel fucked up, and the stare Jack sent him was piercing. Though it was not anger that swelled in those blue eyes. What Gabriel found was far more disturbing.

 

                At that moment, time seemed to slow. Jack’s hand came down, brushing across Gabriel’s cheek, light as a feather.

 

                “Everything will be alright.”

 

                Somehow, Gabriel didn’t find that at all reassuring. It sounded too much like a promise to his likings. Before he could find something to retort, Jack dissolved into mist once more, steeled determination in his eyes. But the elder vampire wasn’t going after Lacroix. The rolling vapour spread and, to Gabriel’s mild horror, made the streams of spilt blood around them _boil_. Vaguely, Gabriel heard Hana snap something in her mother tongue, a curse most likely, and found himself agreeing with her.

 

                White mist turned red, not a typical crimson, but cloudy and tainted like something that would come out of a dead fish. The odour was foul, and Gabriel was glad that he was no longer human, or at least having a working digestive system, else he would have been retching like most of the others. This also would probably be the first and last time he saw Ana Amari stagger.

 

                It didn’t stop there. The air shivered, curling into itself. Leaves browned and fell, barks flaked off into dust and the earth blackened as the mist, _Jack_ , seethed. Many humans and shamblers suddenly collapsed, crumbling into the same haze, screaming in agony. Curses sprouted forth in various languages. Out of the corner of his eyes, Gabriel saw Reinhardt slid through the horror, clumsy in all his armours, and raised his glowing shield above a group of humans, friends and foes alike. McCree hooked his arms around Hanzo, fleeing even as the archer continued his barrage. Mad as he was, Jamison mounted atop Roadhog’s shoulders, rushing away and swearing.

 

                If Gabriel was afraid then, now he was _terrified_.

 

                He, and many others, often teased Jack about the vampire’s dramatic flares. But when it all came down to it, jokes were the furthest thing in their minds. Amelie Lacroix obviously understood this. Hissing, she drew her legs close and rebuilt her cocoon.

 

                The rolling mist coiled like a massive snake, and leapt at Widowmaker from every direction. It dyed her webbing red, blotchy and creeping rapidly towards Lacroix. Fibres crumbled away, silk unravelled and Lacroix’s pained screech rattled the forest’s very foundation. Mandibles peeled off, fluttering as if they were ash, burnt by the boiling blood’s intensity.  

 

                Every hair on Gabriel’s body stood on end. So this was Jack’s true power? Or was it just another fraction of what he could really do?

 

                Either way, the decay was unstoppable. No matter how hard Widowmaker struggled, screamed and lashed out around her, Jack’s advance only accelerated. The blood ate away Lacroix’s appendages, shredding away layers of her outer shell, until all left was her human form. Tattered and disoriented, she collapsed on her knees. She screamed in pitches Gabriel didn’t know anything on Earth could utter, until her voice died and her eyes rolled back. Amelie Lacroix lay there, unconscious and beaten.

 

                It didn’t end there.

 

                The bloodied mist swirled, pulsing in an ominous cloud over them all. The chill in the air was almost unbearable, and so were the teeth-grinding noises coming out of it. The dying light above shone through, casting crimson reflection upon them, all frozen in place. They watched in silence, even the shamblers were shuffling in uncertainty. The immense display of power was overwhelming, almost suffocating, and neither side knew what could possibly happen next. Would Jack turn on his own side or obliterate his foes? Or would he lose control completely and destroy everything in presence?

 

                If Gabriel’s heart was still working, it would have beaten itself out of his ribcage by now. He didn’t like how taunt Hanzo’s bow was or how tightly Reinhardt’s hands wounded around his hammer. Or the way Ana’s was aiming at the mist and how Hana’s features were slowly turning more fox-like by the seconds.

 

                Like the others, his eyes were glued to the contracting vortex, but not for the same reason. Shadows, almost undetectable as they dissolved into the mist within seconds, blinked within the mass. Soon, a pattern was traced, though it could be erratic at times. Gabriel carefully shifted onto his feet, keeping one eye on the fallen jorogumo just in case. All his senses were strained, and they reached beyond what was happening right before him. There was a shift in the air, well-contained and barely noticeable. Something of controlled perfection, something that only Gabriel’s paranoid self could have thought of.

 

                The shadows flashed again.

 

                _One. Two. Three._

 

                Gabriel leapt, straight into the mist, ignoring the reactions blazing from the crowd below. He hadn’t the slightest idea of how this could possibly work, just as he had charged into Widowmaker without thinking earlier. But he couldn’t just sit there and gawk like an idiot either. All Gabriel knew was that he _had to_ do something. And this something was apparently turning into smoke upon contact with Jack’s mist.

 

                Stretched out at every direction, Gabriel knew beforehand that he wouldn’t have much time. In a motion akin to an octopus propelling through water, he pushed and encased the shadow in his own body, praying to anything that might be listening that his intuition was right this time. As Gabriel went flying out of the mist, his body reformed, curling around something almost intangible. But he miscalculated. Too hasty upon feeling what had grasped, Gabriel reverted himself earlier than he should have. Hitting the ground with a less than graceful thud, he felt his skin sizzled away, yet stubbornly kept himself looming above the figureless lump.

 

                And for good reasons.

 

                A golden orb, radiant and deadly, collided with the remaining mist out of nowhere. Boiling blood rained down upon them all, burning like acid. At the same time, shamblers sprung to action once more, striking at unsuspecting onlookers. The clearing plunged back into chaos, clashes and screams shattered the silence.

 

                In Gabriel’s arms, Jack was slowly taking shape, naked and shivering like a child. Elongated teeth clattered, Jack clutched onto Gabriel as if the latter was his life line. Something in Gabriel’s chest tugged painfully, albeit with underlying anger, but this wasn’t the time to act upon it. His smoke wrapped around Jack for decency, and got the hell out of there as another orb ploughed where they had been.

 

                From beyond the trees, Satya Vaswani stepped forth, carrying herself like a queen. The gold and white of her garments glimmered with every step. Cold, measured _rage_ radiated from her in an aura of deadly Light Magic.

 

                And, of fucking course, she brought reinforcement.

 

                “Enough. You fools will pay for this.”

 

                Gabriel’s smoke flared dangerously, hunching over Jack, still cradled in his arms, protectively. And Jack, legs around his hips, arms encircling his back and face buried in his neck, let out a shuddered breath.

 

                “ _Hana_.”

 

                The rush of sudden power was smothering. There she was, a white behemoth, snarling and swishing her blazing nine tails, so fearsome she put woven tales to shame. Unlike them, Hana was a creature of magic _and_ physical intimidation. She was power in its purest, most primal form. An ancient being that had roots much, _much_ older than any of them here.

 

                Jack really did have everything planned out, the asshole. And Gabriel was pretty sure he saw Hana aiming a smirk at his direction.

 

                Gabriel had to hand it to Vaswani, having not staggered at all when Hana revealed herself. For the third time that day, mayhem erupted, and it was once again difficult to tell friends from foes. Gabriel fended off their attackers with just the shadows beneath his feet, whirling them around like the whips of Hell.

 

                Meanwhile, Jack was still clinging onto him like a possum.

 

                “You’re a fucking idiot.” Gabriel couldn’t help it. He didn’t know if he wanted to beat Jack up or toss the fucker across the forest. Of course, he did neither, and held Jack tighter, hating himself a little while doing so.

 

                At least the elder vampire didn’t have the usual teasing note in his voice when he answered, “I planned it out as best as I could. But I have never done something of this magnitude before. It was…exhausting.”

 

                “No shit.” Gabriel still wasn’t pleased. If anything, he got more violent, “After everything, you still take the burden on your own. You still don’t trust me.”

 

                He didn’t expect to be bitten on his shoulder. Jack’s voice was still faint when he spoke, but his anger was prominent, “I didn’t let you know because I wasn’t sure myself. If I didn’t trust you, I’d have had plenty of excuses to send you away. No. You’re here, because I trust you to fix everything that I couldn’t foresee. And you have done just that. Messy, but you did what nobody else could have done.”

 

                He curled around Gabriel tighter to emphasis his point. For his own merit, Gabriel still thought Jack was an idiot.

 

                “So you’re telling me that whole death cloud thing was planned?”

 

                Silence. Just as he expected. Gabriel’s sigh was a mix of frustration and exasperation.

 

                “See, Jack, you can’t just run off and do things on impulse. That’s _my_ job.”

 

                “Excuse me for freaking out when you practically suicide-rushed Lacroix out of nowhere! If I hadn’t interjected, you would have killed yourself! Also, that's a lie and you know it!”

 

                “And you thought it would be better if _you_ do it?!”

 

                “I had it under control!” A pause. “Mostly.”

 

                “ _Suuuure_. I mean, I’m not the one turning into a plague with teeth and almost dissolved myself completely. But hey, what do _I_ know?”

 

                “…Your sarcasm sucks, Gabe.”

 

                “Not a couple of nights ago. No, I don’t think so.”

 

                “…Now that’s just childish.”

 

                They went quiet then, mainly because Gabriel wasn’t sure if he was going to punch Jack in the face instead of the shamble closing in on them. And perhaps that he, Gabriel Reyes, might have mentally accepted that _both of them_ were being ridiculous and stupid. Jack was more so than himself, of course.

 

                Pieces of what was left unsaid fell into places on their own. The whole thing with Lacroix was just a stalling move. Gabriel more or less understood Jack used his time circling the spider was to gather his own energy from the dead surrounding him, in order to deliver the final blow. Gabriel’s impatience jeopardised the timing, though honestly it was Jack’s fault for not saying a word about it in the first place. Jack had intended to have Hana hold off, waiting for Vaswani to show her face. And, from what had transpired, Gabriel doubted that anyone knew the full extension of Jack’s plotting.

 

                Though how he knew the Light witch would be here in the first place was still up for debate. Or that this attack would be happening at all. As per usual, Jack was leaving out some crucial details, and Gabriel was getting pretty tired of this.

 

                In the distance, Hana managed to knock Vaswani away, only to have herself tripped and fall with a deafening thud. Strange, teal-coloured fox fire lashed out, protecting herself as she stood. Vaswani’s small army surrounded Hana, many among them supernatural. But that wasn’t to say the kumiho was overwhelmed. She easily incinerated half of them, while Jesse and Hanzo showed up on her other flank, fighting for all they were worth. As Vaswani sent deadly white beams at their direction, Hana’s flame became a barrier, deflecting the Light witch’s magic and rendering it useless.

 

                This would have been rather epic if there wasn’t so much at risk.

 

                “Any other surprise that you might want to share?” Gabriel’s tone was dry as he moved, being targeted by a particularly large werewolf. Though they didn’t have to go too far, as Zarya, almost doubled the other wolf’s size, bowled into it and sent it flying out of sight.

 

                Jack fidgeted. Gabriel sighed.

 

                “We literally just went over this.”

 

                “Well, in my defence, I don’t think you’ll like the next one.”

 

                Gabriel growled. Obviously, Jack found that an invitation to nuzzle into his neck.

 

                “Are you going to get off of me and _do something_ anything time soon?!”

 

                “I’ll pass, this is much more comfortable.”

 

                A litany of disbelieving curses and mutters escaped Gabriel, all the while Jack was _happy_ to snuggle closer. Still very naked. On a fucking battlefield of all places.

 

                Gabriel wondered at what point his life had turned so _impossible_.

 

                A glance down at Jack’s unkempt tuff of hair answered that. Gabriel made a grumbling noise of resignation and Jack had the nerves to _giggle_. Deciding to ignore his mate from now on for his own sanity’s sake, Gabriel made himself focus on the battle around them.

 

                Their side fought valiantly, and it was clear the majority of them were superior, but Vaswani’s appearance seemed to have bolstered the enemies. Certainly not in a valorous way, at least. The shamblers, those that weren’t completely pulverised, were strung up again like broken puppets. The more alive portion of her army pressed on with either fear, desperation or fanatic manic. This madness had only been going for only a few hours, and yet it felt like a whole week had passed. Everyone and everything was locked in a struggle. It was difficult to tell whether their feet were on the ground or on fallen bodies.

 

                The flow of battle pushed them towards Jesse and Hanzo. Even though there wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t covered in blood, Hanzo maintained his regal posture. Not a single arrow missed its mark and the twin dragon souls left only destruction behind whenever summoned forth. Jesse’s serape was spotting many new holes and, just like Gabriel’s shotguns, his pistols were probably lost somewhere in the chaos. There were chunks of flesh stuck in his metallic fist, and his teeth flashed even whiter under the grimes.

 

                “So what changed your mind?” Gabriel casually started the conversation, fully expecting Hanzo’s legendary scowl. And certainly was not disappointed.

 

                “I almost forgot how chatty you become in these situations.”

 

                Jesse, on the hand, looked slightly high. On bloodlust or a mad mix of happiness and relief, Gabriel couldn’t quite decide.

 

                “Mighty fine t’ have y’all joinin’ us!” Jesse crackled, brutally punched a hole through an unfortunate Overwatch soldier. The cowboy paused for a moment, giving Gabriel and Jack an one over, “Though I gotta say…Pops, y’ have no shame.”

 

                Eloquently, as any vampire of his age and stature would have, Jack answered Jesse with a snort. Definitely wasn’t moving an inch though. He was still being covered in Gabriel’s smoke, but with all the fighting and shifting going on, the position Jack locked himself in was obvious.

 

                Recuperating or not, it was still ridiculous. Perhaps in a less crazy situation, Gabriel would have thoroughly enjoyed this. Satya Vaswani hurling deadly magic bolts at their general direction and all the bloodshed surrounding them sort of ruined the mood. As established, Jack didn’t seem to get the memo.

 

                “Fascinating. She is able to repel and withstand the sheer force of a thousand-year kumiho. She must have help or other sources amplifying her somewhere.” Hanzo made an observation, nonchalant as if they were discussing the weather. Gabriel had half a mind to throw back the shaman’s words in his face, but decided that he was too mentally jaded to drop more sass at the moment.

 

                “The longer we stay, the more we will be at a disadvantage.” He gestured at the edge of the trees. More Overwatch soldiers were coming, pouring numbers in to the fray.

 

                “When the hell d’ they get that many?!” Jesse sounded offended. They probably had downed enough to build a body fortress, but the waves seemed endless.

 

                “Let’s just say Overwatch’s coverage has gotten a lot wider since your cosy retirement.” Flatly, Gabriel drawled, “By the looks of it, they want to have us surrounded.”

               

                “With what? Most o’ us ain’t gonna tire, and they fall like paper. Even if they surround us, there ain’t shit they can do!”

 

                Gabriel sneered. Not too far away from them, Bastion, Winston and Lucio were bundled up together, with the Pan sandwiched between the two giants, struggling to fight off the endless assaults.

 

                Hanzo’s glare had Jesse withering, “As per usual, your vast underestimation towards the enemies astounds me.” Turning to Jack, “I assume you have thought of this outcome?”

 

                For once, Jack’s face parted from the crook of Gabriel’s neck, and he regarded Hanzo with a seriousness that had disappeared for the last hour or so, “Indeed I have. Gabriel’s recent discovery had me thinking about this possibility and how to counter it. Vaswani is powerful and mad. But she certainly isn’t dumb. She wouldn’t have wagered so much if she wasn’t sure she could take us all down in one fell swoop.”

 

                “Enough.” Gabriel found himself impatient once more. It just wasn’t time to beat around the bush, “What’s the ace up your sleeve?”

 

                Jack gave him a solemn look, “I did told you, you aren’t going to like it.”

 

                Frankly, Gabriel didn’t believe it took him _this long_ to piece two and two together.

 

                “ _No_.”

 

                “Yes.”

 

                Hanzo was completely disgusted. Jesse just seemed genuinely confused.

 

                Behind them, Hana’s torrent of fire forced Vaswani backward. The Light witch staggered, and it was a momentary triumph for them. But as Hana advanced, blue white rope-like Light Constructs shot out from the ground, both searing and tangling themselves around Hana’s massive form. She went down with a pained howl, huge, scrambling paws sent chunks of dirt and dead men flying. Snarling, Jesse sprung to action, dashing towards the light’s sources despite Hanzo’s yelling for him to stop.

 

                Jack’ scowl was heavy as he surveyed the damage. Finally, he got off of Gabriel, but remained in the latter’s shadows. There were still trembles across his body and he still had to lean on Gabriel for support.

 

                But Jack’s attention was elsewhere and there was an uncertainty in his eyes that Gabriel didn’t quite like, “She’s late.”

 

                A growl bubbled in Gabriel chest. He yanked Jack back, flat against his side, “I know you’ve made terrible mistakes before, but this might be your worst yet.”

 

                That came out a little harsh, and Gabriel almost regretted the fear in Jack’s too-blue eyes. But Satya was stalking towards Hana’s fallen form, easily pushing away any form of resistance she met. Dragging Jack along, Gabriel hurried after Jesse and Hanzo. They didn’t make it too far, however.

 

                Screams filled the air, coming from all directions beyond the forest’s shadow. Agonised and terrified, they stopped everyone dead in track. The strings holding Hana snapped, and she crumbled down, reverting to her human form, unconscious. Even Vaswani was startled, her head snapping around in disbelief.

 

                Jack exhaled, his relief evident, “She got it.”

 

                Pulling his shadows around them, Gabriel remained sceptical.

 

                A familiar, grating laughter sounded off, bouncing off dark woods and cold air. Odd soundwaves followed, muddled and buzzing. Darkness lit up with purple streaks, and Sombra leisurely strolled out in all her neon-coloured glory. At the same time, Gabriel found himself unable to move. From the looks of it, so was everyone else.

 

                They had been frozen in place. And the culprit was obviously smug of this achievement.

 

                “You have no idea how hard it was to pull this off!” Sombra exclaimed, a gleeful bound in her step, “I mean, you already set up the perimeter nice and clean, it was just a matter of altering it to my taste, but still.”

 

                “Sombra! We had a deal!” Jack snapped, voice guttural for his efforts.

 

The Shadow witch flicked her wrist dismissively, “The deal is to get Vaswani when and where you want her. But _I_ get Vaswani.”

 

                “ _How_?!” The Light Witch’s voice was distorted, her eyes bulging as she struggled. And failed. “What do you want?!”

 

                “My bad, but I don’t think we have met yet. I only know you from reputation and some second-hand experiences.” Sombra snickered, spinning a half-circle around Satya, “But the leader of Overwatch and one of the most powerful witches in the world? I’ve always wanted a toy like that!”

 

                “Sombra!”

 

                “Oh, shut it, Jackie-boy. I followed your little deal. I did everything as instructed. I leaked just enough of your info. I got them right where you wanted. So _shush_ and let me have my moment.”

 

                “Jack!” Gabriel hissed. He was beyond pissed now.

 

                “ _I know!_ ”

 

                “Where are Lena and Genji?!”

 

                “They are fine! Out of commission, yeah, but-…” Sombra was slightly annoyed at this point, “Dios mio! Can’t a girl get one moment to herself?! Should have put on a mute spell. Wait, _that’s_ an idea!”

 

                Glowing symbols danced out at her fingers’ every flicker. Words weaved into strings, tethered into the night. Protests died down. Their jaws were locked, and the place now truly resembled a mass grave, impossibly quiet and cold.

 

                “Much better.” Sombra dusted off her hands, smirking, “Anyhow, as I was saying, nothing on the contract was broken. I simply tweaked some to my own interest. Quite a few loopholes you got there. You should consider leaving the business. That was totally embarrassing.”

 

                She rewarded herself with a giggle, and lazily floated up. Crossing her legs, Sombra lounged luxuriously, suspended in mid-air, “But that construct though! Pretty epic if I have to say so myself!” Paused, “Awe, now it’s boring because it’s a monologue!”

 

                Drifting over to Vaswani, Sombra draped an arm over the other witch’s stiff shoulders, “Gotta admit, this is pretty anti-climactic. I was expecting a lot more struggles. Can’t complain though! That mass enchantment is on-point.” Giving a vast gesture at all of them, “Y’all gotta thank me then. Who knows lil’s miss genius here would have done to y’all if I didn’t interfere, ay?”

 

                Perhaps Gabriel had gained some kind of new power, especially when it came to the smouldering hatred in his eyes, but Sombra did notice him then. She blew a raspberry at his direction, smug as hell, “Don’t worry your little head. My interest has nothing to do with any of you. Let’s just say that my vision…” She made a window with her fingers, winking at the vampire, “Is a bit grander than a scuffle over who is more righteous than who. Nah, amigo, that ain’t how I _roll_. And Princess here,” Patting on Vaswani’s head non-too gently, “Is going to be the key ingredient!”

 

                “But I have to admit, this worked way better than I anticipated. Out of all of you? Maybe the fox could have caused some issues. But Jackie’s placements made it cake for me, I just needed to delay it a wee bit.” Swinging off her invisible perch, Sombra grinned, all teeth.

 

                Slight movements arose through the perimeter. The enchantment was wearing off. Gabriel felt his hands twitched. Just a few moments more, and he could wrap them around Sombra’s wry little neck…

 

                Obviously, she realised his, and most of the crowd’s, intention.

 

                “Time is ticking. As much as I enjoy gloating, I must protect my investment in some other places. I doubt that we will ever cross path again, but it was good while it lasted. Thanks, Jackie, for this wonderful opportunity.” Her eyes gleamed deviously, daintily and mockingly waving at them, “Toodles.”

 

                In a flurry of purple sparks, Sombra disappeared and, with her, Satya Vaswani.

 

                It ended up to be half an hour before the complex network of spells dissolved completely. And then Gabriel had to protect Jack from being mauled by a bunch of unhappy supernatural creatures. Honestly, Gabriel himself wanted to punch Jack, but given that they were mates, he kind of had to do the right thing.

 

                Rounding up the rogue Overwatch agents didn’t take too long. With Vaswani gone the way she did, they were rattled, either surrendering quickly or making a run into the darkness. To which they didn’t get too far. Though tried as they might, they couldn’t find Amelie Lacroix amongst the bodies. Some said the residue of what Jack did had disintegrated her, but nobody actually believed that. They had yet to see the last of the spider.

 

                Not far from the battleground, they found Genji trapped in a seal and Lena unconscious nearby. The younger Shimada seemed slightly traumatised upon release, but he still apologise profusely for what happened.

 

                Collateral check was a mess. There was just so much damage that they didn’t even know where to start. Many of their newfound allies took off after the battle, unhappy with the outcome. Zarya had been particularly pissed, and the wolf had vowed to never have her people involved with anything outside of their territory again. Torbjörn, despite his kind’s legendary short temper, politely withdrew the night after, stating that the whole ordeal had been unnecessary, and took the golem Bastion in his departure. Before he left, Fawkes suggested, over-enthusiastically so, that they should organised a hunting party for Sombra and Vaswani.

 

                Unsurprisingly, nobody supported the idea.

 

                “She has dealings with those under. It is possible that is where her _investments_ lie.” Jack suddenly said, three days since that fateful night, as the remaining allies gathered in an Overwatch headquarter. No-one asked the vampire what he meant.

 

                Gabriel snorted under his hood, shifting so that he would lean against the cold stone wall. The noise was made loud by tall, empty ceiling, and Jack visibly hunched. They hadn’t talked much, if at all. There was simply too much to take care of, and by now, there was an air of uncertainty hung above them, tense and made rotten by the loss counted.

 

                Of course Jack would pick a more political approach, hiding his intentions in the crowd.

 

                “Whether Sombra returns or not, or if she stays true to her claims, she is and will always be a threat.” Ana sipped her tea, steely and calm, betraying no emotion.

 

                Jack’s eyes were far away as he stared at the row of empty seats across the table, “Definitely.”

 

                Hanzo, Genji, Jesse and Hana had gone back to Hanamura the previous day, with an addition of Lucio. Even though her healing abilities exceeded many they knew, the kumiho had troubles with the wounds left by Satya’s magic. Zenyatta would be able to help her much better, Hana had said.

 

                She, or the other four at that matter, didn’t say they wanted to leave as soon as possible. That they wanted nothing more to do with this mess.

 

                “Vaswani is powerful. I assume Sombra is even more so. What can we do if they decide to return?”

 

                A pang of guilt swept through Gabriel’s stoic visage. Lena seemed so much smaller, huddling in a chair too big for her frame and bundled in blankets. She didn’t come through until a day after the incident, and immediately _demanded_ to know everything while she was out. Gabriel had wanted to withhold the information, tried to reason that she wasn’t well enough. Brown eyes were fierce at his answer, Lena threatened to do a lap around headquarter if Gabriel didn’t cut his bullshit.

 

                The fact that she didn’t resent him…it hurt.

 

                Lacing his long fingers, Jack spoke into his hands quietly, “Sombra has made more than just a few enemies for that stunt. Even if many aren’t with Overwatch, they are against her. She won’t be coming back. At least not anytime soon.”

 

                The silence followed was uncomfortable.

 

                Jack’s shoulders shifted by a fraction. He was frazzled. Jack had a reputation that was carefully built over the span of his existence. He was not only known for his power, but also for the sharpness of mind. Jack’s judgement and his ability to read every situation were uncanny. If people didn’t trust him, then they respected him. Some even looked up to him. Jack was a myth. A legend. And while he would never admit so, it was a certain (border-lining egotistical) pride that Jack relished in.

 

                Sombra’s betrayal had shaken that entire foundation, and she played him in such a way that Jack couldn’t find a cohesive reason to go after her. She saw the opportunity, and she used every wiggle space she could. Even if Sombra had indeed owed Jack a favour, a contract was still a contract. And a contract with a witch was a risky thing. With one meddling with the affairs of the underworld, even more so. In his time of need, Jack had overlooked some ill possibilities closest to himself.

 

                However, it wasn’t just wounded ego that made Jack into such a wreck. Disappointment was a huge factor in his depression, not just in himself, but the weight of others’ towards him. And it had reared up so many deep-rooted fears, those that Gabriel knew all too well.

 

                So Gabriel swallowed his own pride. After all, despite whatever Jack might think of himself, to Gabriel Jack was only human. And humans made mistakes. Closing the distance between them, Gabriel placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. Tension came first, as expected. But Jack actually reaching up and delicately wrapped his fingers around Gabriel’s was a pleasant surprise.

 

                Nobody made a comment at this display, but Lena’s grin almost split her face in halves.

 

Ana cleared her throat pointedly, “Overwatch is no more. Words will spread. This might give us even more problems than before. What are we going to do now?”

 

                “We rebuild.”

 

                All eyes turned towards Reinhardt. The ageing Crusader had been uncharacteristically quiet in the aftermath, no doubt heavy in mind just like everyone else. He shifted at the head of the table, seeming uneased with the sudden attention. But then he held his head high, grey mane reflecting the dancing flame, and there was a light in his eyes that had them straightening their postures.

 

                “Overwatch had strayed very far from its path. Ideals were taken and passed on in lies. Noble intentions cannot be built on a corrupted foundation. This revelation shocked you just as it had me, I can imagine. However.” The massive man inhaled, his fist curling upon the table’s marble surface, “No matter how much wrong this organization has wrought, _we_ all have taken an oath. To uphold justice. To protect. And I will honour those vows, even if Overwatch is no more.”

 

                Silence reigned after Reinhardt’s speech. This time, the tension was slightly different. No-one knew how to respond to that, even though their hearts were set. And Jack…Gabriel had never seen him so hopeful.

 

                In the end, it was the quiet clicking of Winston, folding his glasses neatly and placed them upon the table. His smile was tired, but golden eyes spoke of rekindled flame and determination, “I’d like to help, if you’d have me.”

 

                “Count me in!” Lena chirped, bouncing in barely contained excitement.

 

                Ana was a little more difficult to read. The sniper’s nod at Reinhardt was deliberate, saying just enough of her intention without a word. She then turned her gaze towards Jack, scrutinising, “And what of you?”

 

                Jack didn’t answer immediately. With a mixture of pride and resolution, he searched the few faces in the room, a small, wistful smile on his lips.

 

                “To you all here, I will always be an ally. I will always be there if you ever need me. But I believe my journey with Overwatch has come to an end. I will no longer meddle with nor will I be an agent.”

 

                There wasn’t disappointment nor surprise. There were relief, understanding and acceptance. Tension unravelled slowly, pleasantly, and Ana inclined her head in a gesture of respect. She turned to Gabriel then, her voice kinder with just a hint of a smile.

 

                “And what of you?”

 

                He chuckle, “You already know my answer.” But he still gave Jack a squeeze, grinning when their fingers threaded together naturally. Ana barked out a laughter, finally at ease.

 

                With this, they could move forward. It was broken and it had cost them greatly, but what was left was all they needed. They could work with this, and make it work. What was needed to be done was completed. Imperfect, but whole in its own sense.

 

                And it was all they needed.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

~ _Epilogue_ ~

               

                Being one of the Ancients, it always made Jack laugh how gullible people could be regarding vampire and sunlight. Who in their right mind would trade such a glorious day, longing in a gazeebo on one of the most beautiful beaches on Earth for a cold, mouldy and dirty coffin in some forgotten catacombs?

 

                Leaning over exquisite railing, Jack hummed as the wind caressed his skin, warm under dawn’s pink fingers. With how long he had spent in the darker, colder parts of Europe, the vampire was simply making up for lost time, and had taken a nonchalant suggestion of “moving somewhere warmer” to heart.

 

                Speaking of which…

 

                Even though the ocean’s scent was fresh in the air, this one was different. Intoxicating with a flutter of gladiolus, Jack melted even before hands came out of the shadows and traced down his clothed spine. The open shirt was soon discarded, and Jack purred when he was pulled back against a strong chest.

 

                “You’re late.” He scratched Gabriel’s scruff lightly, and shuddered when cool hands wandered down and into his shorts. Jack both felt and heard the chuckle, rumbling like distant thunder against his skin.

 

                “We have all the time in the world. What difference does a couple of hours make?”

 

                “Are you saying that there are things out there more interesting than _in here?”_ Jack guided a gun-calloused hand to cup his member, tipping his head back and glanced up at smouldering dark eyes under his lashes.

 

                No matter how long they had been together, that flash of grin always sent Jack chills. Rough hand worked him breathless and fangs traced down his neck delicately, teasing him with nips and kisses.

 

                They didn’t even make it inside. Gabriel took him right then and there, overlooking the blue sea. Slow and steady, just like the waves lapping at ivory sand, they savoured each other. And again on the cool wooden deck, where Jack got feisty and just a tad impatient. He pinned Gabriel down and rode his mate in earnest. Bits of Gabriel’s shadow crawled up and curled around Jack’s legs, stroking and edging him on. One hand spayed over his abdomen and the other’s thumb rubbing circles into Jack’s hip, Gabriel watched his mate with a small quirk on his lips. Perhaps it was a bit childish of him, but Jack preened at the attention, and he arched his back even further, giving Gabriel a better view of his sculpted body.

 

                There was something about Gabriel that always made him always taste of sweets. No, it was something more complex than that. A hint of fresh blood, as he hunted, with a pinch of decadent spice that was almost nectar-like. Jack had long since given up trying to figure it out. Because when they kissed, it was much better to savour and let all thoughts be washed away. And even if Jack couldn’t, Gabriel always enticed him to, lost to the rhythm of their bodies and the rumbles of whisper that resonated into Jack’s very core.

 

                They never made it inside. Moving to their comfortable lounge, Jack was content to have them connected, curling against Gabriel’s chest and purring in utter satisfaction. Gentle hand carded through blond locks, further inviting Jack to nestle at the crook of his mate’s neck. They let the wind and the ocean filled the afterglow’s silence, content to just be in each other’s arms.

 

                “So? How was it?” Jack had always been the talker in their relationship. And his curiosity was awoken as there was no longer anything to distract it. Besides, Gabriel had been gone for three months. Jack had an excuse to be nosey.

 

                “Nothing much.” Gabriel stretched his legs lazily, thick muscles tensed and relaxed against Jack, “They are opening an arcade in Hanamura. I think you can guess who influenced this.”

 

                The elder vampire chuckled. Tough as he might act, Hanzo secretly was a softie to his brother’s demands. Jack didn’t doubt Hana and Lucio had something to do with this. Old as they were, the trio could be terribly juvenile at times.

 

                “How is Hanzo anyway?”

 

                “Getting better with his trainings. Still hates his trips to the mountains though.”

 

                Jack laughed, “I don’t blame him. Being alone in a dark cave for a hundred years with only Hana? That sounds torturous.”

 

                Not long after their battle, Hanzo and Jesse came to a somewhat compromise. Well, Jesse didn’t exactly knew about it until Hanzo suddenly brought it up. Being a shaman of his power and with his connection to the ancestral spirits, Hanzo decided to truly become one with his dragon. Jesse had been ecstatic at first. The vampire had just then come to terms with the fact that Hanzo would subject himself to mortality, and time would eventually divide them.

 

                Genji flat out called them both stupid.

 

                Jesse hadn’t realised then how much time and effort it would take, how dangerous it could be. Even with Hana’s assistance, Hanzo still had to push his human body to extreme limits and passing the spiritual challenges on his own. Worst of all, Jesse was not allowed on these trips. Visits were few and far in-between. Of course the elder Shimada had to be stubborn and took the perilous, difficult path. He didn’t want an easy way out, didn’t want to “succumb” to the vampiric thirst.

 

                Welp, at least he had made half the journey. Only five more centuries until his accession.

 

                Drawing invisible patterns on Gabriel’s skin, Jack hummed, “What about Lena?”

 

                He could practically hear Gabriel rolling his eyes, “You know her. Never could stay put. She is coming back to London, though.”

 

                “Oh?” Jack’s fingers moved up, scratching Gabriel’s beard gently, “She hasn’t been home for a while, has she?”

 

                His mate scoffed, but Gabriel couldn’t completely dismiss the note of fondness there, “Not since last century. That whole melt-down in King’s Row still embarrasses her.”

 

                “What made her change her mind?”

 

                There was a slight scowl in his voice now, “Got herself involved with some girl named Emily.”

 

                A pause. Then peals of laughter huffed against Gabriel’s neck, “Oh, beloved. Are you being protective?”

 

                “No.” Gabriel was quick to answer. Perhaps a bit too quick, “I’m just saying she’s being a bit impulsive. This girl is human too. And has yet a slightest clue about…you know, _Lena_.”

 

                Jack sighed, petting the side of Gabriel’s cheek affectionately, “Lena is a grown woman. She has always been. She can take care of herself.”

 

                “With how she acts most of the time? Right.”

 

                Jack laughed again, only to gasp when Gabriel suddenly thrust up, reminding him just how deeply they were still connected. Sitting up, the blond levelled his mate with a glare.

 

                “That’s unfair.”

 

                Gabriel’s cocky grin melted him, “You love it.”

 

                Huffing, because Jack couldn’t deny this, he settled back down, pinching Gabriel’s side in warnings. That earned him rolling chuckles, and Gabriel's arms came down to wrap around Jack. They sighed in unison, too content and lazy to keep up the mischief.

 

                “Angela visited while you were away.”

 

                “She certainly doesn’t like me, does she?”

 

                “Well, you two never could agree on anything, and I’d rather keep our place intact.”

 

                “Touché.” Silence. And then, “So how’s the pointy-eared wannabe nurse?”

 

                Jack slapped Gabriel’s chest, tried (and failed) to act put-upon when Gabriel merely laughed at him, “Exactly my point.” Getting himself comfortable once more, “She just wanted to see how we are doing. She just recently came back from a trip to Antarctica. From the sounds of it, made a friend there too.”

 

                “The last thing she needs is more connections.”

 

                “At least she’s enjoying her life.” Jack shrugged, “Probably took Jesse’s advice a little too close to the heart. But she is getting out there and doing all the things she wants to do.”

 

                Gabriel’s humming answer was absent-minded. They went quiet once more, with an occasion banter and slow bouts of love-making. Dusk pulled its dark cloth over the sun, and they tumbled into bed, content and just a tad giddy. Hands linked together atop cold satin, and Jack couldn’t quite keep a smile off his face.

 

                Brown eyes were warm when they met his, and Jack let himself being pulled into Gabriel’s arms once more.

 

                “Are you happy?”

 

                Every night, regardless of where they were or what they were doing, be it sex or a hunt, Gabriel would always ask him this. It wasn’t for reassurance, as Jack had learned a long time ago, but because Gabriel simply enjoyed seeing the way Jack’s eyes lit up every time.

 

                They shared a kiss, sweet and unhurried. Just like Gabriel had said, they had all the time in the world. Jack smiled against his beloved’s lips, and pulled them impossibly close.

 

                “Yeah, I am happy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Visit my tumblr for more Blizz trash: [Nei Karasu](http://neikarasu.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ./go cry in a corner


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